WITH   PICTURES   BY 


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CDlumlna  Snitieviittp 


THE  LIBRARIES 


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EVERYBODY'S    ST.    FRANCIS 


mm  ©betat 


REMIGIUS  LAFORT.   S.T.D. 

Censor 


STmprimatur 


JOHN  CARDINAL  FARLEY 

Archbishop  of  New  York 


New  York 

November  16,  1912 


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EVERYBODY'S 
ST.    FRANCIS 


BY 
MAURICE  FRANCIS  EGAN 

PROFESSOa  EMERITUS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE  AND  LITERA- 
TURE   AT    THE   CATHOLIC    UNIVERSITY   OP   AMERICA; 
AUTHOR  OF    "songs    AND  SONNETS,"    THK 
"  SEXTON  MAGINNIS"  STORIES,  ETC. 


WITH  PICTURES   BY 
M.    BOUTET    DE    MONVEL 


t. 


NEW  YORK 

THE   CENTURY   CO. 

1912 


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f3X-^f^ 


Copyright,  1912,  by 
The  Century  Co. 

Published,  October,  1912 


8 

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TO    MY    FRIEND 
ROBERT    UNDERWOOD   JOHNSON 
INSPIRER    AND    CRITIC    OF    THIS    BOOK 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.     The  Youth  of  St.  Francis  of  Assist  3 

II.     The  Beginning  of  the  New  Life    .  45 

III.  The    Wolf    of    Gubbio     and    the 

Coming  of  Santa  Clara      ...  90 

IV,  St.  Francis  and  the  People  .      .      .  127 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

St.  Francis  of  Assisi • Frontispiece 

Francis  Bernardone,  as  a  child,  walking  with  his  parents   Page    5 

Francis  kissing  the  hand  of  a  leper 16 

Francis  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  his  pleasure-loving  com- 

panions ■^^ 

Francis  carrying  a  stone  for  the  reconstruction  of  the  chapel 


of  St.  Damien 


36 


St.  Francis  distributing  gold  to  the  poor  of  Assisi     ...  58 

St.  Francis  receiving  food  from  a  peasant  woman  in  Assisi  67 

Brother  Giles  giving  his  clothes  to  a  beggar  woman  ...  77 
St.  Francis  receiving  permission  to  preach  repentance  from 

Pope  Innocent  III °^ 

St.  Francis  consoling  the  friar  who  doubted  his  affection   .  93 

St.  Francis  subjugating  the  wolf  of  Gubbio 100 

Children  of  Assisi  feeding  the  wolf  of  Gubbio       ....  105 

Clara  receiving  her  sister  Agnes 116 

St.  Francis  and  the  Turtle-Doves      .........  121 

St.  Francis  and  the  Birds 131 

St.  Francis  with  the  three  brigands 148 

St.  Francis  and  Brother  Masseo 153 

St.  Francis  preaching  to  the  people  of  Assisi 164 

Santa  Clara  and  her  sister  waiting  on  St.  Francis     ...  177 

Death  of  St.  Francis 187 


EVERYBODY'S    ST.    FRANCIS 


\    -                  ^1 

^ 

1 

EVERYBODY  S  ST.  FRANCIS 
I 

THE  YOUTH  OF  ST.   FRANCIS 
OF  ASSISI 

HE  power  of  St.  Francis  of 
Assisi,  son  of  the  practical 
Peter  Bernardone  and  the  ten- 
der Madonna  Pica,  over  the 
Western  world  of  his  time, 
and  over  our  hearts  in  our  time,  has  been 
explained  in  many  ways.  But  it  has  only  one 
source  and  that  is  love.  Love  made  him  a 
poet;  love  made  him  a  saint;  love  gave  him 
life  and  fire  and  understanding  and  all  the 
things  that  were  added  to  him.  Let  us  see  if 
this  is  not  true. 

Francis  Bernardone,  first  named  John  in 
honor  of  the  first  little  friend  of  Our  Lord, 
was  not  born  in  a  peaceful  time.  Even  dis- 
tance can  lend  little  enchantment  to  the  view 
of  the  panorama  of  the  hating  and  envious 
cities,  towns,  villages,  and  feudal  strongholds 

[31 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

which  we  call  Italy  at  the  end  of  the  twelfth 
century.  It  is  possible  that  Francis  was  born 
during  the  last  week  of  September,  in  the 
year  1181.^  So  far  as  beauty  is  concerned, 
there  is  no  question  that  he  was  happy  in 
the  place  of  his  birth.  People  who  love 
beauty  would  go  to  Umbria,  even  if  Fran- 
cis —  once  Bernardone,  and  afterwards  name- 
less, that  he  might  belong  to  the  whole  world 
—  had  not  become  one  with  Assisi  and  Um- 
bria. He  was  not  the  first  poet  that  Assisi 
had  claimed.  There  was  the  elegant  Sextus 
Aurehus  Propertius,  the  equal  at  least  of  Lu- 
cius Varius  Rufus  who,  according  to  Brown- 
ing, in  the  vestibule  of  the  bath  at  Rome, 

Read  out  that  long  planned,  late  completed  piece, 
His  Panegyric  on  the  Emperor. 

And  later  Francis  of  Assisi  imitated  the 
deified  Emperor  Augustus  by  assuming  the 
guise  and  the  garb  of  a  mendicant,  and  in 
Rome,  too,  though  not  with  the  same  purpose. 
Once  a  year  Augustus  begged  through  fear, 

Asking  and  taking  alms  of  who  may  pass, 

And  so  averting,  if  submission  help, 

Fate's  envy,  the  dread  chance  and  change  of  things.^ 


I  The  date  of  his  birth  is  uncertain,  some  authorities  placing  it  in  1 182. 
^Browning:  "Imperante  Augusto  Natus  est." 

[4] 


FRANCIS     BERNADONE,     AS     A    CHILD, 
WALKING    WITH     HIS     PARENTS 


YOUTH    OF    ST.     FRANCIS    OF    ASSISI 

Francis,  as  we  shall  see,  became  a  beggar  at 
the  door  of  St.  Peter's  from  a  motive  more 
imperial  than  that  of  the  emperor's. 

ITALY  DURING  THE   LIFE   OF   ST.   FRANCIS 

Italy  —  if  we  may  speak  of  the  atoms  striving 
to  fly  apart  as  Italy  —  was  longing  for  free- 
dom in  a  dim,  half-hearted  way.  In  those 
days,  the  rule  of  the  German  emperor  meant 
slavery;  that  of  the  pope,  the  hope  of  freedom, 
as  freedom  was  then  understood.  And  there 
was  great  rejoicing  in  Assisi  in  1198  when  the 
German  and  Imperial  Duke  of  Spoleto,  Conrad 
of  Liitzen,  was  deprived  of  his  place  as  the 
feudal  lord  of  Assisi  by  a  decree  of  the  pope. 

The  joy  of  the  Assisians  and  the  Umbrians 
would  not  in  the  least  hinder  them  from  oppos- 
ing the  pope  in  other  temporal  matters,  if 
they  saw  fit.  But  in  this  act  Pope  Innocent 
III  —  he  who  defied  the  strongest  of  all  forces 
at  Rome,  tradition,  to  bless  the  beginnings  of 
the  work  of  St.  Francis;  he  who  loved  sym- 
bolism so  much  that  he  decreed  that  the  black 
vestments  used  in  the  services  for  the  dead 
should  be  lined  with  green,  the  color  of  hope 

[7] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

—  was  hailed  by  all  lovers  of  freedom  in 
Umbria  as  their  lover  and  friend.  The  Guelfs 
had  triumphed;  still,  the  triumph  was  pre- 
carious. On  the  heights  of  the  Lateran  the 
pope  heard  threats  of  civil  war;  the  strength 
of  the  empire  was  growing  in  the  Two  Sicilies, 
and  that  young  panther,  Frederick  of  Swabia, 
of  the  race  of  the  Red-bearded,  graceful,  alert, 
and  treacherous,  was  gaining  strength  in  a 
palace  in  Palermo  for  his  chance  to  spring. 

It  was  not  a  happy  time  for  the  birth  of  a 
poet  greater  than  Propertius.  Never  had 
Assisi  been  more  prosperous,  or  more  besotted 
in  its  love  for  the  things  of  this  world.  The 
peasants  in  Umbria,  though  somewhat  better 
off  than  their  neighbors,  had  no  time  for 
abstractions.  They  believed  firmly  in  what 
they  could  see.  If  Our  Lord  and  the  gracious 
Lady,  His  Mother,  had  appeared  among  them, 
they  would  have  garlanded  the  front  of  their 
houses  with  green  bushes  and  strewn  the 
flowers  of  the  season  before  them.  The  rich 
would  have  treated  them  as  the  greatest  of 
the  earth;  the  fountains  would  have  run  with 
red  and  white  wine,  and  Peter  Bernardone 

[8] 


YOUTH    OF    ST.    FRANCIS    OF    ASSISI 

would  have  spared  none  of  his  store  of  money, 
gained  in  France  and  on  the  road  to  France, 
to  do  honor  to  the  Son  of  the  Almighty  God; 
but  no  poor  man  or  woman  would  have  been 
really  the  better  for  it  all. 

"Ah,  thou  little  Lord  Jesus,"  Peter  Bernar- 
done  would  probably  have  said  — "thou  art 
poor;  we,  the  rich  of  Assisi,  will  make  you 
rich.  Here  is  a  crown  of  the  fmest  French 
workmanship  and  a  little  sword,  made  by  the 
infidels  of  Spain,  for  thee.  But,  dear  and 
little  Lord,  be  sure  that  all  the  world  shall 
know  what  the  greatest  merchant  of  no  mean 
city  of  Assisi  has  given  thee." 

The  powerful  merchants  in  the  peninsula 
believed,  with  the  faith  of  their  eye,  that  the 
unseen  might  at  any  moment  become  seen; 
and  in  this  they  differed  from  our  modern 
men  of  commerce;  but  in  another  way  they 
were  like:  they  were  firm  in  their  belief  in  the 
value  of  advertising.  They  were  practical. 
The  thirteenth  century  was  an  age  of  faith; 
but,  nevertheless,  avarice,  sensualism,  coarse- 
ness, neglect  of  the  rights  of  the  weak  and  the 
poor,   the   worship   of  material   things,   were 

[91 


EVERYBODY    S    ST.     FRANCIS 

prevalent.  In  mortal  hatred  of  poverty,  in 
love  of  luxury,  the  end  of  the  twelfth  and  the 
beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century  were  not 
exceeded  by  our  own  time.  Faith  without 
morals  or  good  works  was  not  rare  in  that 
time,  which  nourished  the  germs  of  our  modern 
progress  into  fuller  life.  The  pagan  supersti- 
tions which  led  Augustus  to  propitiate  the 
gods  by  professing  to  be  too  mean  for  their 
arrows  to  pierce  him  (see  Browning's  "Impe- 
rante  Augusto  Natus  est")  were  a  part  of  hfe. 
Brigands,  half  Christianized,  prayed  to  their 
patron  saints  for  the  coming  of  a  fat-pursed 
victim;  the  opulent  lord  sacked  the  monastery 
of  his  enemy,  the  opulent  abbot,  and  offered 
stolen  rubies  and  gold  at  the  shrine  of  the 
patron  of  his  family  as  a  propitiation.  It 
was  an  age  of  faith,  which  is  the  gift  of  God, 
and  of  credulity,  which  is  not. 

All  kinds  of  horrible  beliefs  were  welcomed. 
If  the  devil  appeared  frequently,  it  was  prob- 
ably because  he  was  sure  that  nobody  who  did 
not  see  him  occasionally  would  believe  in  him; 
and  honest  faith  must  at  times  be  enforced  by 
miracles,  or  faith  would  cease  to  be.     Men 

[10] 


YOUTH    OF    ST.     FRANCIS    OF    ASSISI 

were  restless,  impetuous,  and  unreasonable, 
easily  wearied  of  themselves,  and  ready  at  a 
fiery  breath  to  give  up  all  or  to  seize  all. 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

The  ardent  preacher  could  make  the  most 
hardened  voluptuary,  the  most  heartless  free- 
companion,  burst  into  passionate  tears  and 
curses  by  telling  how  the  Roman  gave  up  the 
meek  Christ  to  the  waiting  mob,  or  a  sudden 
desire  for  wealth  or  woman  would  lead  him 
with  equal  suddenness  to  sell  his  soul  to  the 
devil  and  make  hell  his  portion,  though  always 
with  the  hope  that  the  good  St.  John  or  the 
kindly  St.  Magdalen  would  cheat  the  demon  in 
the  end. 

That  bread  and  wine,  the  commonest  of 
food,  became  in  substance  the  body  and  blood, 
soul  and  divinity,  of  the  risen  Christ  when  the 
priest  repeated  the  mystic  words  in  com- 
memoration was  not  doubted  by  anybody 
except  outlaws  and  blasphemers.  That  the 
accidents  of  color  and  form  and  taste  con- 
cealed the  mystic  substance  in  which  humanity 
and  divinity  met  was  a  truism  of  life.     For 

[11] 


EVERYBODY    S    ST.    FRANCIS 

this  belief  cathedrals  were  built,  not  merely 
to  honor  a  pure  spirit  in  heaven,  unknown  and 
far-off.  For  this  belief  monasteries  and  con- 
vents existed,  and  through  it  the  mass  became 
the  center  of  a  vast  spiritual  and  economic 
system.  Later,  when  it  was  destroyed,  a  great 
part  of  Germany  and  nearly  all  England 
changed  as  if  by  magic.  To  eradicate  it  was 
to  eradicate  the  power  of  the  church.  It 
would  have  lived  had  the  temporal  organiza- 
tion of  Christian  Rome  perished;  but  Rome, 
as  a  spiritual  power,  cannot  exist  an  hour 
without  it.  It  was,  and  is,  the  very  life  of  the 
Catholic  Church. 

In  judging  the  conditions  of  the  time  of 
Francis  of  Assisi,  this  truth  is  often  forgotten 
or  ignored  by  persons  who  will  see  the  past 
only  through  modern  eyes.  Without  the  ac- 
ceptance of  the  mass  as  a  potent  influence, 
neither  Francis  nor  his  century  can  be  com- 
prehended. In  the  Middle  Ages  the  sacra- 
mental teaching  about  which  the  celebration 
of  the  mass  centered,  was  the  expression  of 
the  central  truths  of  life.  Without  knowing 
what  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass  stood  for,  it  is 

[121 


YOUTH    OF    ST.     FRANCIS    OF    ASSISI 

as  impossible  to  understand  the  conditions 
under  which  the  man  of  the  time  of  St.  Francis 
of  Assisi  existed,  as  to  attempt  to  know  the 
modern  currents  and  cross-currents  of  Ufe 
without  a  knowledge  of  the  meaning  and 
processes  of  evolution. 

It  is  necessary,  too,  to  comprehend  the 
view  of  the  Italians  in  the  matter  of  their 
relations  with  the  popes.  In  the  Middle  Ages 
a  quarrel  with  the  holy  father  about  temporal- 
ities meant  in  no  sense  a  revolt  against  his 
spiritual  teachings,  and  had  nothing  to  do 
with  those  new  doctrines  frequently  arising 
in  Italy  in  the  time  of  St.  Francis,  and  with 
which  he  had  no  sympathy. 

St.  Francis  broke  down  some  of  the  most 
inhuman  bulwarks  of  feudalism,  but  he  was 
never  a  politician.  He  had  no  rancor  against 
any  system  of  government  or  social  organiza- 
tion. In  fact,  he  did  not  trouble  himself  with 
government  or  political  systems;  he  thought 
only  of  men. 

COMMERCE    AND    GREED 

Francis  would  scarcely  have  entered  into  a 
world  more  un-Christlike  than  that  surround- 

[13] 


EVERYBODY    S    ST.    FRANCIS 

ing  him  when  he  lay  in  his  happy  mother's 
arms  under  the  glowing  grapes  in  the  arbor 
near  his  father's  house.  And  his  father,  elate 
with  joy  at  the  birth  of  a  son,  represented  one 
phase  of  the  burden  of  society,  for  Peter 
Bernardone  was  the  personification  of  the 
commercial  spirit.  To  make  good  bargains, 
to  show  the  proud  nobles  that  he  could  buy  and 
sell  them  if  the  occasion  arose,  to  treat  the 
poor  as  wretched  outcasts  almost  as  accursed 
as  lepers,  to  be  content  in  the  luxuries  he 
could  give  his  own,  not  caring  much  who  wept 
with  cold  and  hunger  outside  his  gates,  were 
conditions  of  his  life.  He  was  one  of  the  many 
prosperous  men  of  his  time  —  homme  moyen 
sensuel.  He  valued  what  he  could  see.  He 
was  intensely  practical,  a  model  of  common 
sense.  It  is  probable  that  his  other  son, 
Angelo,  resembled  him;  but  Francis  was  like 
the  Provengal,  his  mother.  She  knew  the 
songs  of  the  troubadours  by  heart;  when  she 
dreamed,  she  lived  in  her  own  land,  and  Peter, 
coming  home  and  finding  his  little  son,  changed 
his  name  from  John  to  Francis,  in  honor  of 
her  and  the  far  land  she  loved,  where  men 

[141 


YOUTH    OF    ST.     FRANCIS    OF    ASSISI 

understood  the  splendors  of  life  and  women's 
taste  rendered  the  journeys  of  Italian  mer- 
chants profitable. 

THE  MONEY-CHANGERS  IN  THE  TEMPLE 

At  this  time  there  were  bishops  in  Italy  and 
everywhere  else  who  acted  as  feudal  lords. 
They  had  been  made  feudal  lords  that  they 
might  act  as  buffers  between  the  king  and  the 
nobles,  and  they  accepted  the  mission.  In 
their  opinion  their  personal  rights  were  the 
rights  of  the  church.  There  were  some  priests 
who  looked  on  the  practice  of  celibacy  as 
merely  a  feudal  ordinance  to  save  the  priest 
from  siding  with  the  nobles.  There  were 
convents  whose  monks  had  drawn  themselves 
from  the  contagion  of  poverty,  the  essential  of 
one  of  their  vows,  and  lived  the  lives  of  accom- 
plished and  learned  gentlemen,  with  the  con- 
sciousness that  they  were  making  a  proper 
compromise  between  the  perfection  taught  by 
the  founder  of  their  religion  and  the  duties 
demanded  of  them  by  the  conditions  of  their 
times.  There  were,  too,  homes  for  lepers, 
for  the  spirit  of  sacrifice  survived,  and  the 

[17] 


EVERYBODY     S    ST.     FRANCIS 

poor  were  not  entirely  neglected;  but  they 
and  their  conditions  were  becoming  more 
and  more  despicable  in  the  eyes  of  all 
classes. 

Of  the  strange  doctrines  that  grew  and 
flourished  in  Italy  at  the  time,  that  of  Cathari 
was  wide-spread.  It  was  a  mixture  of  various 
Oriental  opinions.  It  had  a  flavor  of  Zoroaster 
and  a  touch  of  the  teachings  of  Buddha,  and 
it  was  so  pessimistic  that  marriage,  the  posses- 
sion of  property,  and  the  care  of  the  body  were 
denounced.  Suicide  was  held  to  be  the  best 
method  of  relieving  the  wretched  soul  from 
the  weight  of  matter,  which  is  accursed.  Mani- 
cheism  and  Gnosticism  were  revived.  Their 
strange  reading  of  the  book  of  life  threatened 
Christianity  and  society.  In  vain  Pope  Inno- 
cent III,  occupying  the  most  dangerous  and 
insecure  position  in  Christendom,  thundered. 
Hatred  was  everywhere;  sensuality  and  ava- 
rice were  rampant,  lean,  hungry,  and  strong. 
Men  were  voluptuously  in  love  with  the  tem- 
poral things  of  life.  The  beginnings  of  the 
progress  in  the  sciences  and  the  arts,  which 
we  see  in  the  Middle  Ages,  were  everywhere 

fl81 


YOUTH    OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF    ASSISI 

evident,  but  they  did  not  constitute  life,  and 
they  were  as  nothing  without  love. 

The  little  Francis  was  a  spoiled  child,  for  it 
is  easy  to  spoil  a  pretty  child,  and  Francis 
had  a  charming  exterior  in  childhood  and 
youth.  Besides,  his  mother  had  nothing  to 
do  but  spoil  him.  Peter  Bernardone  was  rich 
enough  to  give  an  easy  life  to  the  Madonna 
Pica,  whom  he  had  brought  into  Umbria  from 
Provence,  a  transplanted  bloom,  to  add  grace 
to  the  home  of  the  merchant.  And  the 
Madonna  Pica  lived  only  for  the  wondrous 
son  who,  she  firmly  believed,  would  one  day 
be  a  great  prince.  She  loved  her  other  son, 
too;  but,  then,  he  was  so  like  her  husband's 
family ! 

It  has  always  been  the  fashion  for  biog- 
raphers of  the  saints  to  supply  their  heroes 
with  noble  ancestors;  for  was  not  the  Mother 
of  Christ  of  the  house  of  David?  In  such 
manner  to  the  Madonna  Pica  was  given  the 
pedigree  of  the  great  French  family  of  Bourle- 
ment.  At  any  rate,  she  had  a  very  noble  and 
romantic  point  of  view  of  life.     The  Provengal 

[19] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.    FRANCIS 

ballads  were  always  on  her  lips.  The  first 
poet  to  sing  the  Italian  speech  was  nurtured 
in  the  language  of  Provence.  He  was  to  be 
the  preux  chevalier,  a  great  son  of  God;  a 
merchant,  perhaps,  like  his  father,  also,  but 
with  the  poetry  of  Provence  grafted  on  the 
shrewd,  prudent,  prosperous  Umbrian  stem. 

And  Madonna  Pica,  making  her  little  boy 
Francis  a  poet  and  a  knight,  began  the  mak- 
ing of  the  saint  who  was  to  give  a  new  world 
to  Italy  and  to  Christendom.  He  was  to 
fight  the  antichrist,  then  unhappily  reigning, 
not  with  the  sword  and  lance  of  Pica's  beloved 
paladins,  but  with  weapons  so  subtle  that  we 
of  to-day  can  only  wonder  at  and  admire 
without  understanding,  his  success. 

Thomas  of  Celano,  to  whom  we  owe  many 
facts  of  Francis  Bernardone's  early  life,  is 
never  intemperate  except  in  the  use  of  rhetoric. 
In  his  heart  he  knew  well  that  this  attractive 
young  stripling,  better  versed  in  the  tales  of 
the  paladins  than  in  the  art  of  reading  and 
writing,  was  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  not  only 
gay,  but  good.  It  was  not  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  world  that  Thomas  of  Celano,  the 

[20] 


YOUTH    OF    ST.     FRANCIS     OF    ASSISI 

devout  follower  of  the  older  Francis,  judged 
the  younger  Francis,  but  by  comparison  with 
his  own  ideal  of  ascetic  perfection.  And  it  is 
to  be  hoped  that  his  denunciations  of  the  bale- 
ful carelessness  of  Italian  fathers  and  mothers 
which  he  uttered  were  made  from  that  high 
point  of  view,  too. 

THE    BRINGING    UP    OF    THE    BOY 

For  the  good  of  his  mind  and  the  discipline 
of  his  body,  Francis  was  sent  to  the  priests 
of  the  Church  of  St.  George.  It  is  insinuated 
that  the  neighbors  pointed  out  to  his  proud 
parents  that  he  needed  such  discipline.  But 
whatever  he  learned  from  the  clerics  of  St. 
George,  he  was  not  long  with  them.  His 
father  wanted  him  to  assist  him  in  his  business, 
for  Peter  was  much  away  from  home,  and  the 
father  thought  that  his  younger  son  would 
make  a  salesman  in  the  Assisian  branch  of  the 
business. 

It  is  not  hard  to  understand  Bernardone. 
He  was  a  man  of  common  sense,  opulent, 
ambitious,  and  of  the  merchant  stock  that 
hoped  in  time  to  become  barons  and  princes 

[211 


EVERYBODY    S    ST.    FRANCIS 

by  peaceful  arts.  Francis  looked  and  acted 
like  a  young  noble.  Bernardone  was  inordi- 
nately proud  of  him.  He  could  afford  to  give 
his  son  anything  that  the  most  arrogant  lord 
in  Assisi  could  give  his,  and  the  charming 
Francis,  with  his  romantic  and  fashionable 
ideas  and  ways  and  his  stories  of  the  gay 
science,  of  song  and  farandola,  —  for  his 
mother  had  taught  him  all  that  was  sweet 
about  her  delectable  country,  —  was  received 
by  the  nobles  of  Assisi  not  only  as  a  com- 
panion, but  as  a  leader.  The  neighbors  were 
aghast  at  the  extravagance  of  the  son  of  a 
merchant,  and  though  the  pride  of  his  father 
was  flattered,  his  parents  themselves  were  not 
altogether  easy  about  their  son,  for  he  was  the 
gayest  of  the  gay.  He  was  at  the  head  of  the 
corti  of  Assisi.  They  admitted  with  some 
trepidation  that,  when  free  from  his  business, 
he  lived  like  a  prince;  but,  when  the  keen- 
eyed  and  sharp-tongued  neighbors  put  this 
thought  into  words,  his  mother  said:  ''What 
do  you  expect?  Francis  may  live  as  the  son 
of  God,  and  give  many  children  to  the  Lord." 
She  was  always  ready  to  defend  her  son,  or, 

[22] 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF     ASSISI 

rather,  to  make  an  apology  for  him.  Had  not 
a  strange  visitor,  as  benevolent  and  as  joyous 
as  the  holy  Simeon,  appeared  at  his  birth  and 
predicted  that  this  cheerful  and  charming  son 
of  hers  would  in  time  do  great  work  on  earth 
for  God? 

It  was  a  time  for  pageants,  for  symbolical 
pomp  of  all  kinds.  In  Umbria  the  religious 
instinct  was  strong,  and  its  teachings  were 
made  as  objective  as  possible.  It  was  in 
Umbria  that  the  banner,  "in  the  dominions 
of  religious  painting  what  the  hymn  is  in 
poetry,"  was  first  used.  Great  painters 
touched  religious  banners  with  glory  for  the 
processions  of  the  feast-days.  It  is  asserted 
that  the  "Madonna  of  San  Sisto"  was  first 
painted  for  this  purpose.  No  expense  was 
spared  in  those  days  for  pageants,  sacred  or 
profane.  It  was  in  the  profane  pageants  that 
Francis  excelled. 

THE  LOVE  OF  PAGEANTRY 

The  Provengal  poets  were  all  the  fashion  in 

Italy,   and   Francis,   from  his  mother,   knew 

them   well.     When   he   attired   himself   as   a 

[23] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

jongleur,  in  a  suit  one  half  of  ordinary  stuff 
and  the  other  half  of  silk  and  velvet,  and  led 
the  procession  of  his  friends,  the  effect  was 
pronounced  tres  chic,  or  its  equivalent  in  the 
argot  of  the  Assisians.  Peter  Bernardone 
may  have  grumbled,  but  he  was  secretly 
pleased.  What  young  noble  was  the  peer  of 
his  son  in  the  invention  and  carrying  out  of 
these  splendors?  Besides,  as  a  shrewd  mer- 
chant, he  recognized  that  his  son  helped  to  set 
costly  fashions;  so  Francis  used  all  the  silk 
and  damask,  satin  and  velvet,  he  wished  for 
making  windows  and  balconies  bright  in  the 
days  and  nights  of  the  parades  of  the  corti. 

Folgore  da  San  Geminiano,  somewhat  later, 
—  about  the  year  1260,  —  recites  in  sonnets 
the  doings  of  the  rich  and  idle  youth  of  Siena; 
and  from  these  we  may  gather  the  nature  of 
the  goings-on  of  the  gay  band  of  Assisi,  of 
which  Francis  was  the  leader.  In  April  the 
members  of  the  club  had 

Provengal  songs  and  dances  that  surpass; 

And  quaint  French  mummings;  and  through  hollow  brass 

A  sound  of  German  music  on  the  air.^ 


»This  and  the  following  quotations  are  from  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti's 
'  Dante  and  His  Circle." 

[24] 


qo  aviAH   A  "lo  a  A  an  am   ta   aioviAH^ 
a  n  o  I VI A  4  M  o  3   o  VI I  V  o  J  -  a  H  u  8  A  a  J  q  g  i  h 


jongie: 

ne  hti 

and  XI 

the  procf: 

•s  friends. 

pronounc- 

;  its  equivalent  ■ 

fir- 

vssisiaiis.-    Pet            rnarciOi 

may    hiv. 

rbled,    '    '       >   was   secreliy 

plv-    "^ 

•  ''^-'     ;^er  ol 

hi;,        ,. 

■  ,\    nf 

th.     -    >n!v 

ch; 

;   (  ,  . 

'7Ad  th             on  helr^ 

<  u 

and  damask - 

ished  hM 

'king  V 

onies  ;                   he 

the  do.  ...  _.  . 

and  from  these  „  ^he  nature  of 

the  goings-on  of  the  gay  band  of  Assisi,  of 
V.  bich  Francis  was  the  leader.  In  April  the 
men  lb  ihe  club  had 


-4«d  lJ*e.  following  <jv  <roB»  D«r 

F  R  A  N  G I S    AT    THE    HEAD    OF    A    BAND    OF 
HIS    PLEASURE  ^Vp VING    COMPANIONS 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF     ASSISI 

Thomas  of  Celano  and  "The  Three  Com- 
panions" who  have  much  to  say  of  Francis, 
do  not  mention  the  German  band,  but  possibly 
the  ascetic  Thomas  thought  of  it  when  he 
made  the  extravagance  of  the  early  life  of 
Francis  appear  a  thing  more  evil  than  it  really 
was. 

In  July  both  the  gay  companions  of  Assisi 
and  that  of  Siena  had 

.  .  .  barrels  of  white  Tuscan  wine 

In  ice  far  down  your  cellars  stored  supine; 

And  morn  and  eve  to  eat  in  company 

Of  those  vast  jellies  dear  to  you  and  me; 

Of  partridges  and  youngling  pheasants  sweet. 

Folgore   ends   his  twelve  sonnets  by  taking 
thought  of  his  best  friend : 

Ah!  had  he  but  the  emperor's  wealth,  my  place 
Were  fitted  in  his  love  more  steadily 
Than  is  Saint  Francis  at  Assisi. 

It  is  recorded  that  the  members  of  the  com- 
pany in  Siena,  celebrated  by  Folgore  in  his 
sonnets  of  the  months,  became  bankrupt  in  a 
single  year;  but  the  earlier  company  of  Assisi 
became  bankrupt  only  when  it  lost  its  leader, 
Francis.     This  came  about  through  his  love 

of  the  poor.     This  question  had  interrupted 

[271 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

his  gaiety  many  times:  "If  you  learn  how  to 
be  gracious  and  munificent  in  the  sight  of  men, 
of  whom  you  can  expect  only  a  transient  kind- 
ness, is  it  not  reasonable  that  you  should,  — 
for  God,  Who  gives  back  all  with  interest,  — 
strive  to  be  gracious  and  munificent  to  His 
poor?"  Once  Francis  was  rude  to  a  poor 
man  who  bored  him  during  business  hours, 
for  the  son  of  Bernardone  was  a  careful  mer- 
chant. "If  this  poor  man  came  in  the  name 
of  a  baron  or  a  count,  thou  would'st  have 
given  him  what  he  asked,"  Francis  said. 
*'But  he  came  in  the  name  of  the  King  of 
kings!  How  much  better  should  you  have 
received  him!"  And  after  the  poor  man  he 
went,  leaving  a  crowd  of  customers  to  wait 
until  he  had  made  loving  amends. 

THE    DAWNING    OF    THE    SPIRITUAL 

Imperial  absolutism  in  the  peninsula  had 
received  some  hard  blows.  The  emperor  was 
no  longer  admitted  as  all-powerful,  and  when 
the  pope  seemed  inclined  to  encroach  on  the 
liberties  of  the  communes,  he  was  reminded 

that  even  a  father  might  not  take  all  liberties 

[28] 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF     ASSISI 

from  his  children.     Perugia  stood  for  feudal- 
ism, Assisi  for  communal  freedom.     Francis, 
burning  with  the  ardor  of  a  knight,  seeing  the 
vision  of  Charlemagne  and  Oliver  and  Roland 
before  him,  threw  himself  into  the  fight  for 
Assisi.    The  Assisians  were  beaten,   and  he 
was  taken  prisoner  and  confined  in  the  castle 
at  Perugia.     He  was  not  noble  by  birth,  but 
the  imprisoned  nobles  voted  that  by  his  man- 
ners he  belonged  to  them,  and  he  was  admitted 
to  their  company.    He  was  as  gay  as  a  lark, 
and  his  fellow-prisoners  reproached  him.     Look 
at  the  darkness  of  their  lives.     What  future 
had  they,  cut  off  from  the  brilUancy  of  young 
life  in  this  prison?    Francis  laughed.     "Fu- 
ture?    I  am  content.     Don't  you  know  that 
I  shall  one  day  be  acclaimed  by  the  whole 
world?    Does   not   that   astonish   you   more 
than  my  good  spirits  in  this  jail?" 

Was  this  a  jest,  or  one  of  those  premoni- 
tions that  flash  across  the  soul  of  youths  and 
are  expressed  laughingly?  To  the  pure  in 
heart  the  dreams  of  youth  often  come  true. 
Afterward,  this  speech  of  his  was  well  re- 
membered.   Francis  could  put  an  "antik  dis- 

[29] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

position  on,"  and,  like  Hamlet,  say  things  in 
jest  that  had  an  earnest  meaning.  In  the 
year  1205  he  had  not  found  himself.  No  crisis 
had  come  in  his  life.  He  was  in  love  with  no 
woman.  The  light  fire  that  played  through 
the  revels  of  his  companions  did  not  touch 
him ;  nor  was  he  the  more  serious  when  others 
of  his  companions  betook  themselves  to  matri- 
mony. But  in  a  dim  way  Francis  already 
saw  his  ideal;  and  as  Guido  Gavalcanti  spoke 
later,  he  also  had  said: 

With  other  women  I  beheld  my  love;  — 
Not  that  the  rest  were  women  in  mine  eyes, 
Who  only  as  her  shadows  seemed  to  move.* 

He  grew  more  and  more  restless,  and  he 
became  ill  —  so  ill  that  he  faced  death.  His 
convalescence  was  long.  He  yearned  to  be 
free  from  the  rooms  of  his  father's  house, 
through  which  he  was  compelled  to  walk, 
aided  by  a  stick.  Oh,  for  the  free  air  again, 
the  fresh  waters,  the  green  fields,  the  old 
sports,  the  song  of  Pierre  Vidal  in  honor  of 
Milan  and  Italian  freedom,  and  the  gay  pro- 
cessions of  the  corti  by  day  and  night!    When 


>  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti's  translation. 

[301 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS    OF    ASSIST 

he  was  again  well,  he  found  that  the  old  zest 
was  gone;  for  he  had  stood  on  the  threshold 
of  another  world,  where  there  was  love,  before 
which  all  the  chaste  raptures  of  chivalry,  all 
the  ardors  of  the  troubadours  for  their  hidden 
ladies,  were  as  nothing.  He  longed  to  do 
something  great  and  fine. 

Just  as  he  had  gained  strength,  it  became 
known  that  the  Sicilies  were  again  in  revolt 
against  their  hated  German  conquerors. 
Innocent  III  was  about  to  be  deprived  of  his 
guardianship  of  the  young  son  of  the  late 
emperor,  Henry  VI,  to  whom  he  had  been 
consigned  by  his  mother.  This  meant  that 
the  future  emperor  would  be  brought  up  under 
anti-Italian  influences.  Now  was  the  time 
for  action.  Gautier  de  Brienne,  the  popular 
hero,  gathered  an  army.  A  noble  Assisian 
volunteered  to  join  him,  and  Francis,  glow- 
ing with  enthusiasm,  offered  to  be  his  squire. 
Bernardone  fitted  him  out  splendidly,  and  he 
started  off,  dazzling  in  his  equipage  and  bear- 
ing a  shield  gallantly.  Assisi  expected  him  to 
be  brave,  —  he  had  been  born  brave,  —  and 
no  less  brave  in  outward  show.    He  enjoyed 

[311 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

his  magnificence;  nothing  for  the  moment  was 
dearer  to  his  heart.  But  there  came  his  way 
a  poor  noble  wretchedly  dressed  and  shivering 
with  cold.  Off  went  the  trappings  of  Francis, 
and  they  stood  together,  Francis  as  a  brown 
nightingale  beside  a  brilliant  peacock.  That 
night  at  Spoleto  he  heard  a  voice  which  seemed 
divine,  asking  him  what  was  his  aim  in  life. 

"Earthly  honor,"  Francis  answered. 

"And  which  of  the  two  can  serve  you  more," 
the  divine  voice  further  asked,  "the  master  or 
the  servant?  And  why,"  it  continued,  "will 
you  forsake  the  master  for  the  servant,  the 
lord  for  the  slave?" 

"0  Lord,  what  shall  I  do?"  cried  Francis. 

"Return  to  the  city,  and  there  it  shall 
be  told  you  what  you  should  do,  and  how  you 
may  interpret  this  vision." 

THE    HERALD    OF    CHRIST 

Francis  obeyed  the  voice;   he  left  the  army 

of  Brienne  and  went  back  to  Assisi,  heedless 

that  his  friends  and  neighbors  might  call  him 

a  coward.     But  they  did  not;  the  youth  hailed 

his  return  with  joy,  and  again  Francis  became 

[32] 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF    ASSISI 

a  leader  of  the  corti,  more  extravagant  than 
ever.  But  he  was  not  the  Francis  of  old. 
He  walked  about  as  if  in  a  dream.  Now, 
Francis  was  essentially  a  busy  man;  so  his 
companions  laughed  at  him,  and  said  he  was 
in  love.  "I  am  indeed  thinking  of  a  bride," 
he  said,  "more  noble,  more  rich,  and  more 
beautiful  than  the  world  has  ever  seen." 

Cervantes  laughed  the  bedizened  specter  of 
Spanish  chivalry  out  of  existence,  while  he 
recognized  the  gentleness  and  innocence  of  his 
hero,  Don  Quixote.  Francis  Bernardone,  see- 
ing how  inadequate  and  how  worldly  the  old 
chivalry  had  become,  looked  for  the  sacred 
heart  within  it.  He  would  be  the  knight  of 
this  heart  of  the  old  order.  What  knight  was 
there  in  all  Christendom  who  would  embrace 
the  leper  as  his  brother?  What  hater  of  the 
Saracen,  what  cross-bearer  in  all  the  Italian 
peninsula,  would  kiss  the  ulcers  of  the  sick 
pauper  and  call  him  friend?  Who  among  the 
nobles  at  the  tournament  or  in  the  ranks  of 
the  Count  of  Brienne,  on  their  way  to  wrest  the 
Sicilies  from  the  aliens,  who  among  all  these 

abhorrers  of  strange  doctrines,  would  imitate 

[33] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

Christ  himself  and  become  poor?  There  were 
many  who  would  fight  in  Christ's  name  for 
titles  and  renown,  but  few  who  would  serve 
the  poor  as  one  of  the  poor. 

Each  knight  had  a  lady  with  whom  he  was 
enraptured,  to  whom  he  vowed  all.  His 
should  be  the  Lady  Poverty,  the  daily  com- 
panion of  Christ  on  earth  and  his  faithful  one 
on  Calvary;  "for  she  is  the  very  base  and 
protector  of  all  the  virtues,  and  first  among 
the  evangelical  counsels."  To  be  united  with 
God  was  his  one  desire,  through  prayer  and 
through  the  espousal  with  the  lady  of  his 
thoughts.  Because  he  was  a  poet  he  was  a 
mystic.  Between  God  and  nature  there  was 
in  his  view  no  conflict.  Then  he  must  be  an 
ascetic  —  that  is,  a  trained  athlete  in  God's 
service  —  he  knew. 

Asceticism  in  the  Middle  Ages  did  not  imply 
that  nature  was  evil  or  the  legitimate  pleasures 
of  the  world  evil,  but  only  that  the  non- 
ascetic  might  not  become  "fat  and  scant  of 
breath"  when  devotion  to  things  higher  than 
nature  might  be  needed. 

"For  whom  is  all  this  bread?"  asked  Ma- 
[34] 


f! 


for  God  wti 


X 

o 

ft 

H 

O 

;^ 

tf 

h 

C/3 

s: 

02 

u  u 

w  *^ 

«.,s 

•  ^<-.- 

W    Q 

a;    . 

ass,  jJIw^.L 

■^^^  ^§8  ' 

:';aRiM 

55  U 

O  fc 

t^^^^ 

>  .-=  Ho 

o  w 

•   '2f-'«V. 

HH    H 

(»-• 


nv 


A  it..'.    K'TiCVV 


> 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF     ASSISI 

donna  Pica  of  the  servants  when  the  table 
was  overloaded. 

"For  the  poor.  Are  they  not  our  own? 
Shall  we  not  give  all  to  God?"  Francis  an- 
swered for  them. 

And    Madonna    Pica    smiled    through    her 

tears. 

There  were  many  shabby  churches  in  Um- 
bria.  To  them  Francis  sent  gifts  of  linen,  of 
vessels  for  the  mass,  that  his  Master  might  be 
duly  honored,  and  that  the  poor  might  have 
for  God  what  they  could  not  afford  to  offer. 

HE    BECOMES    POOR    IN    SPIRIT 

Francis  was  moved  to  go  to  Rome,  —  to 
which  city  in  those  days,  literally,  all  roads 
led.  St.  Peter's  was  not  then  the  magnificent 
thing  Michelangelo  made  it,  and  the  visitor 
was  pained  that  the  offerings  of  the  pilgrims 
were  so  few  and  the  temple  was  so  unworthy 
of  the  great  apostle.  He  gave  all  he  had  at 
the  moment,  and  for  a  day  became  one  of  the 
many  beggars  in  the  piazza,  thus  imitating 
unconsciously  the  great  Augustus.  He  knew 
at  last  what  it  was  to  be  so  poor  that  he  must 

[37] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

beg.     This  was  his  first  victory  over  his  love 

of  sensuous   dehghts   and   soft   garments,   of 

lucent  sweetmeats  and  spiced  wine.     Lepers 

he  had  always  detested,  but  they  were  common 

enough  where  the  poor  were  crowded  together. 

He  shivered  at  the  approach  of  one  of  these 

poor  wretches;  all  the  forces  of  a  delicate  and 

fastidious  temperament  rebelled  at  the  sight 

of  them.    And  as  to  the  touch  of  them,  he 

paled  at  the  thought.     But  on  one  momentous 

day  he  met  a  frightfully  distorted  leper  as  he 

rode.     His    thoughts    had    been    on    solemn 

things,  —  on  sacrifice  and  the  love  of  God,  — 

but  at  this  sight  he  turned  his  horse's  head  to 

avoid    the    hideous    and    miserable    creature. 

Then    he    dismounted,    and    reverently    and 

lovingly  kissed  the  ulcers  and  the  decaying 

features  of  his  brother  in  Christ.     He  gave 

the  amazed  man  all  the  money  he  had,  and 

he  felt  that  a  new  light  was  shining  upon  him. 

After  this,  the  splendid  young  cavalier  haunted 

the  hospitals  of  the  lepers,  appearing  to  them 

like  a  living  St.  George,  shining  with  glory. 

What  he  most  hated  he  had  embraced  for  the 

love  of  Christ.    He  felt  that  the  wonderful 

[38] 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS    OF    ASSISI 

change  had  begun  which  was  to  make  him,  from 
a  being  made  in  the  Ukeness  of  God,  one  with 

God  Himself. 

He  began  to  see  what  the  vision  of  Spoleto 
meant.     During  his  father's  absence  he  gave 
away  everything  that  he  could  give  to  the  poor, 
and  his  gentle  mother  did  not  find  fault  with 
him.    The  lovely  views  about  Assisi,  which  he 
had  passionately  loved,  no  longer  depressed 
him  with  mute  questionings,  as  they  had  done 
just  after  his  sickness.     Cheerful  and  peaceful, 
he  could  wander  in  the  fields  again.     After 
one  of  those  walks  he  knelt  one  day  in  the  old 
chapel  of  St.  Damian  and  asked  God  to  direct 
him.    The  voice  answered  him,  as  he  knelt 
at  the  foot  of  the  crucifix,  "Francis,  go  and 
rebuild  my  house,  which  is  falling  into  ruin." 
Francis  took  the  message  Uterally.    He  did 
not  see  that  it  had  even  a  greater  meaning. 
The  great  house  of  God  was  threatened  on  all 
sides  by  the  lust  of  power  and  wealth  which 
had   crept   into   the   very   sanctuaries.     The 
crucified  Christ  had  called  Francis  to  build  up 
the  very  walls  of  the  universal  church. 

He  took  some  very  precious  stuffs  and  sold 
[39] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

them,  with  his  horse,  in  Fohgno.  Peter  Ber- 
nardone  was  away  at  the  time.  But  what  did 
that  matter  to  Francis?  Had  not  his  father 
always  given  him  what  he  had  asked  for,  even 
when  he  was  most  extravagant?  And  why 
should  the  good  Peter,  who  could  never  refuse 
his  French  velvets  and  his  Italian  tissues  to 
decorate  a  balcony  during  the  carnival  pro- 
cessions of  the  corti,  find  fault  when  such 
stuffs  were  used  for  a  poor  church? 

But  he  did,  nevertheless.  Peter  had  not 
heard  the  voice.  He  could  see  the  revels  of 
the  corti,  but  he  could  not  see  his  son's  heart. 
Our  Francis  was  like  a  child;  he  had  heard 
the  voice  of  God;  his  way  was  clear;  he  threw 
down  all  the  money  he  had  before  the  good 
priest  of  St.  Damian  for  the  restoration  of  the 
ruined  church.  It  was  well  for  the  priest  of 
St.  Damian  that,  fearing  Peter's  anger,  he 
refused  the  money.  Francis  then  flung  it  into 
a  window  of  the  church.  It  was  useless  to 
him;  and  the  priest,  moved  by  his  piety  and 
sincerity,  took  him  into  his  house.  Peter 
descended  upon  St.  Damian  in  search  of  the 

money,  at  the  same  time  vowing  vengeance  on 

[401 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF    ASSISI 

his  son,  who  had  hidden  himself.  Peter  still 
believed  that  Francis  had  kept  some  of  it;  for 
how  could  any  man  of  his  son's  wit  have  sold 
at  Foligno  such  rich  stuffs  at  so  small  a  price? 
Francis  praised  God  and  prayed  for  a  month 
at  St.  Damian,  and  then  returned  to  Assisi. 

God  gave  Francis  great  comfort  in  those 
days.  He  found  peace;  he  gave  his  will  to 
God,  and  longed  above  all  things  to  partake  of 
the  sufferings  of  his  Lord.  But  how  unlike 
the  gay  leader  of  the  corti  he  was  now!  Pale 
and  worn,  no  longer  at  point-device  in  his 
dress,  with  unshorn  hair  and  beard,  the  flower 
of  Assisi  was  greeted  as  a  madman  in  his  native 
town.  The  son  of  the  opulent  merchant,  the 
most  brilliant  of  the  golden  youth,  had  given 
up  all  to  be  poor.  This  went  beyond  the 
understanding  of  all  Assisi.  Assisi  said  that 
the  once-applauded  Francis  was  a  madman. 
His  father,  frenzied  by  the  taunts  of  the  towns- 
people and  the  disgrace  brought  upon  him  by 
his  son,  beat  him  with  his  own  hands  and 
dragged  him  to  his  home,  where  he  imprisoned 
him. 


41 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 
THE    GREAT    RENUNCIATION 

Francis  rejoiced  at  this.  Was  there  not 
One  who  had  been  scourged  at  the  pillar 
after  the  dark  night  in  Gethsemane?  Fran- 
cis escaped  through  the  kindness  of  his 
mother.  Peter,  returning  from  a  journey, 
appealed  to  the  consuls.  Francis  declared 
to  the  Bishop  of  Assisi  that,  being  devoted 
to  God,  he  was  responsible  only  to  Him. 
The  consuls  were  glad  to  turn  the  case  over 
to  the  bishop.  The  bishop  advised  him  to 
give  up  everything,  so  that  his  father  might 
be  appeased. 

"My  lord,"  said  Francis,  "I  will  give  him 
all  that  is  his,  even  my  very  clothes." 

He  took  off  all  his  garments  except  a  hair 
shirt  and  laid  them  at  his  father's  feet.  The 
bishop  for  the  moment  threw  his  own  mantle 
about  him.  An  old  gown  of  a  laborer  was 
brought  to  him.  He  dipped  his  hand  in  mortar 
and  drew  a  large  cross  on  it. 

"Peter  Bernardone,"  he  said,  "until  now 
I  have  called  you  my  father;  henceforth  I  can 

truly  say,  Our  Father,  Who  art  in  heaven; 

142] 


YOUTH     OF     ST.     FRANCIS     OF    ASSISI 

for  He  is  my  wealth,  and  in  Him  do  I  place 
all  my  hope." 

After  this  renunciation,  this  hteral  inter- 
pretation of  the  counsel  to  leave  father  and 
mother  for  Christ,  he  went  into  solitude;  he 
praised  the  Lord  in  the  woods,  singing  to  his 
brother  the  wind  and  to  his  sisters  the  birds, 
his  poems  of  love  of  Our  Lord  in  the  sweet 
Provencal  speech,  which  in  the  beginning  of 
his  mission  was  his  preferred  tongue. 

And  while  he  wandered  through  the  snow, 

the  blasts  that  bore  it  from  the  north  howled 

about  the  comfortable  chamber  of  Madonna 

Pica.     On  her  heart  fell  the  hardest  blow  of 

this  parting,  for  she  loved  him  more  than  her 

other  children.     Many  a  time  she  was  to  see 

him  in  Assisi,  clothed  in  a  wretched  garment 

and  with  naked  feet,  begging  stones  from  each 

passer-by,   that   the   church   of   St.    Damian 

might  be  repaired.    He  carried  the  stones  on 

his  back,  and  repaired  the  breaches  in  the 

walls  with  his  own  hands,  and  all  the  while  he 

sang  and  prayed  tenderly  and  ardently,  and 

was  always  joyful.     The  people  of  Assisi  could 

not  long  look  unkindly  on  him.     None  except 

[431 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

his  implacable  father  and  mocking  brother 
resisted  the  sunshine  of  his  smile.  He  finished 
the  work  on  the  church  of  St.  Damian  and 
began  to  repair  that  of  St.  Mary  of  the  Angels, 
at  the  Portiuncula,  the  little  place  in  which  he 
might  sleep  as  the  poorest  of  the  poor. 


[44] 


II 

THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   NEW   LIFE 

IRANCIS  now  felt  that  he  was 
a  free  man.  Poverty  to  him 
meant  entire  hberty  to  love  God 
and  God's  creatures.    To  renew 

the  youth  of  Christianity  was  his 

d^re,  and  by  this  to  give  more  glory  to  the 
risen  Christ,  who  had  died  in  the  arms  of 
Lady  Poverty.  He  had  no  quarrel  with  riches 
or  with  rich  men.  In  his  idea  of  the  world, 
Dives  had  a  place,  but  Lazarus  was  the  more 
to  be  honored  because  he  was  poor.  Francis 
was  firmly  convinced  that  the  poor  would 
always  be  on  the  earth,  and  that  content- 
ment and  peace  could  come  to  every  human 
being  only  by  honoring  and  loving  poverty. 

In  his  day  this  was  a  hard  saying;  but  the 
house  of  Christ  on  earth  had  many  mansions. 
The  mansions  of  the  popes  and  the  emperors 
were  not  like  his  little  hut  at  the  Portiuncula. 
He  did  not  expect  popes  and  emperors  to  live 

[451 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

in  little  huts  or  to  serve  the  Lady  Poverty  in 
a  "beast-colored"  gown  bound  by  a  girdle  of 
rope,  and  with  a  cross  of  mortar  as  the  only 
ornament ;  but  for  those  who  wished  to  imitate 
the  divine  life  of  Christ  on  earth,  who  wished 
to  be  free  to  unite  themselves  entirely  with 
him,  the  way  of  the  Lady  Poverty  was  the 
best  way.  To  have  a  wife  and  children  was 
good;  to  love  truly  and  constantly  an  earthly 
maiden  also  led  to  salvation,  and  was  also  good 
and  beautiful  and  worthy  of  a  knight:  but 
for  him  who  would  be  united  with  Love  itself 
who  would  open  the  door  that  shuts  out  this 
world  from  that  other  of  eternal  joy  and  peace, 
there  could  be  no  wife  or  child  or  father  or 
mother.  All  must  be  forsaken;  the  supreme 
surrender  must  be  made  with  no  reservation. 

A    LOOK    AHEAD 

In  this  time  of  wars,  when  the  Western  world 

was  in  the  making,  men  ardently  desired  peace. 

But  peace  could  not  be  made  on  a  material 

basis.     The  antithesis  of  Francis  of  Assisi  was 

to    be   Frederick   of    Sicily.     Born   in    1194, 

twelve  years  after  Francis,  this  prince  had  from 

[46] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

his  childhood  hved  in  an  atmosphere  of  strife. 
An  Itahan  by  birth,  but  representing  German 
imperial  domination,  he  had  been  the  cause  of 
a  fierce  struggle  between  his  guardian,  Innocent 
III,  and  the  representatives  of  that  domination. 
Through  Constance,  his  mother,  he  had  in- 
herited kingly  rights  in  the  Two  Sicilies,  and 
when  his  uncle,  Phihp  of  Swabia,  died,  he  was 
the  last  of  the  Hohenstaufens  and  the  Norman 
princes.    He  was  to  be  the  most  luxurious 
ruler  of  his  epoch,  irresponsible  to  God  or  man 
in  his  luxury;   and  for  this  Dante  puts  him 
in  hell.     The  scent  of  orange-blossoms  and 
strange  Oriental  perfumes  surrounded  him  in 
his  youth.    He  was  half-Eastern,  and  the  ways 
of  the  Saracens  were  dear  to  him.    The  ward 
of  Innocent  III,  he  became  an  opponent  of 
the  claims  of  the  papacy  worthy  of  the  steel  of 
that  masterful  pontiff,  who  deprived  the  Ger- 
man emperor  of  the  support  of  the  bishops  and 
made  them  really  vassals  of  his  own. 

Educated  nominally  by  ecclesiasts,  he  came 
to  be  regarded  as  a  second  JuUan  the  Apostate. 
And  yet  he  was  the  same  man  who  was  willing 
to  eive  up  Agnes  of  Bohemia  to  the  order  of 

[471 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

St.  Clare,  protesting  that,  if  her  spouse  were 
any  other  than  Christ,  he  would  not  have 
permitted  it.  He  kept  a  harem,  after  the 
Eastern  manner,  and  imported  Circassian 
women  as  he  imported  animals  for  his  famous 
menagerie.  In  order  that  he  might  reign 
supreme,  he  did  his  best  to  break  up  the  feudal 
power  in  the  Sicilies.  If  he  endowed  monas- 
teries, he  acted,  like  most  other  rulers  of  his 
time,  in  a  spirit  of  worldly  policy.  The 
ecclesiastics  were  clever  and  learned;  in  later 
times  Luther  proved  the  force  of  his  training 
by  breaking  great  breaches  in  the  system 
which  had  trained  him.  In  the  thirteenth 
century  the  astute  laymen  in  power  used  the 
disciplined  ecclesiastic  to  consolidate  his  power, 
and  showered  benefits  upon  him  and  his  com- 
munity that  his  knowledge  and  experience 
might  not  be  turned  to  the  advantage  of  all 
men.  Besides,  it  was  a  secular  dogma  of  the 
times  that  the  land-owning  clergy  must  be 
directed  against  the  powerful  land-owning 
nobility,  with  its  hereditary  privileges.  Thus 
it  was  not  through  faith  entirely  that  the 

church  became  rich  and  temporally  powerful. 

[481 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW    LIFE 

This  filled  Francis  with  sorrow;  for  he  was 
wise  enough  to  see  that  the  condition  of  the 
times,  as  this  condition  affected  institutions, 
could'  not  be  changed  by  him.  He  was  not 
Pope  Innocent  III  or  Frederick  the  Splendid 
whose  Oriental  knowledge  and  gorgeous  pomps 
Francis  learned  to  hate;  he  was  only  a  simple 
man  whose  business  in  life  was  to  love  his 
neighbors  and  all  things  God  had  made. 

It  was,  too,  a  secular  dogma  of  the  time 
that  the  machinery  of  life  depended  on  the 
possession  of  land  and  wealth.    The  emperor 
or  the  prince  was  important  in  proportion  to 
the  extent  of  his  dominions;   a  duke  became 
formidable    as    his    estates    increased.    The 
power  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  was  fre- 
quently threatened  by  the  great  nobles,  and 
though  the  emperors,  intent  on  centraUzation, 
might  speak  of  Portugal,  Spain,  and  Denmark 
as  little  kingdoms,  their  power  over  these  coun- 
tries was  not  much  more  than  nominal.    The 
emperors  of  the  Saxon  house  and  the  Fran- 
conians,  by  enriching  the  clergy,  were  especially 
adept  in  using  them  as   "buffers"   between 
themselves  and  pretentious  princes  or  arrogant 

[49] 


everybody's     ST.      FRANCIS 

nobles.  "Let  us  observe,  too,"  says  Blondel, 
*'that  it  was  not  only  abbots  who  became 
counts,  but  counts  who  became  abbots."  The 
emperors  recognized  the  danger  of  the  principle 
of  heredity  among  the  nobles,  and  met  it  by 
giving  all  possible  wealth  and  power  to  celi- 
bates. As  an  example,  Frederick  determined 
to  be  an  absolute  ruler  in  the  Sicilies;  but  he 
had  to  reckon  with  his  former  guardian,  Pope 
Innocent  III,  who  was  equally  determined 
that  the  Sicilies  should  not  be  despotically 
made  a  dependence  of  the  German  Empire. 

Law  limiting  absolutism  was  progressing  in 
Germany,  but  in  the  Sicilies  Frederick  felt 
that  he  could  develop  law  for  his  own  support. 
In  Germany,  during  the  great  struggle  of 
Barbarossa  for  supremacy,  many  of  the  Ger- 
man bishops  had  decided  against  the  pope; 
but  Innocent  III  had  managed  to  change  this, 
and  the  German  prelates  and  clergy,  made 
powerful,  were  more  and  more  attaching  them- 
selves to  him.  When  his  time  came,  all  this 
made  Frederick  turn  his  attention  toward  the 
conquest  of  Italy.  At  the  time  when  Francis 
of  Assisi  began  his  real  life  Italy  was  a  place 

[50] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

of  fear.  Without  the  temporal  power,  it 
seemed  as  though  the  church  might  be  made 
the  slave  of  the  emperors.  Before  the  work  of 
Francis  was  well  begun,  the  empire  was  ruled 
by  one  who,  while  he  headed  a  crusade,  was  at 
once  the  most  elegant,  the  most  refined,  the 
keenest,  and  the  most  corrupt  and  voluptuous 
ruler  in  Europe. 

THE    MIND    OF    FRANCIS 

To  be  rich  was  to  be  powerful,  and  the  vice- 
regent  of  Christ  dared  not  for  a  moment 
sheathe  the  temporal  sword  without  danger  to 
the  interests  of  Christendom.  To  be  a  bishop 
was  to  be  a  temporal  prince;  to  be  a  monk 
was  to  live  personally  poor,  if  you  will,  but  as 
a  part  of  a  rich  organization  protected  by  all 
the  panoply  of  war.  Yet  Francis,  knowing 
this,  wrote  in  his  rule  for  the  life  of  those  who 
joined  him: 

The  Lord  commands  us  in  the  gospel:  Take  heed, 
beware  of  all  malice  and  avarice,  and  guard  yourself 
from  the  solicitudes  of  this  world  and  the  cares  of 
this  life.  Therefore  let  none  of  the  brothers,  wher- 
ever he  may  be  or  whithersoever  he  may  go,  carry 
or  receive  money  or  coin  in  any  manner,  or  cause  it 

[511 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

to  be  received  either  for  clothing  or  for  books,  or  as 
the  price  of  any  labor,  or,  indeed,  for  any  reason, 
except  on  account  of  manifest  necessity  of  the  sick 
brother.  For  we  ought  not  to  have  more  use  and 
esteem  for  money  and  coin  than  of  stones.  And  the 
devil  seeks  to  bhnd  those  who  desire  or  value  it  more 
than  stones.  Let  us  therefore  take  care  lest,  after 
having  left  all  things,  we  lose  the  kingdom  of  God 
for  such  a  trifle.  And  if  we  should  chance  to  fmd 
money,  let  us  no  more  regard  it  than  the  dust  we 
tread  under  our  feet,  "  for  it  is  vanity  of  vanities, 
and  all  is  vanity."  And  if  perchance,  which  God 
forbid,  it  should  happen  that  any  brother  should 
collect  or  have  money  or  coin  except  only  because  of 
the  aforesaid  necessity  of  the  sick,  let  all  the  brothers 
hold  him  for  a  false  brother,  a  thief,  a  robber,  and 
one  having  a  purse,  unless  he  should  become  truly 
penitent. 

The  brothers  who  later  followed  him  must 
not  accept  money  as  alms.  They  were  for- 
bidden to  collect  money  for  anything  or  to 
help  any  one  to  seek  or  make  money;  but 
they  might  work  at  any  trade  or  profession, 
though  not  for  more  than  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  feed  and  cover  them.  Here  was 
a  message  of  the  simple  life  with  a  vengeance! 
Was  it  strange  that  Assisi  and  its  environs 
looked  on  the  once  extravagant  Francis  as  a 

madman,  that  his  father  raved,  his  disappoint- 

[52] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

ment  working  like  madness  in  his  soul,  or  that 
Angelo,  Francis's  brother  in  blood,  scoffed? 

In  the  meantime,  while  the  brothers  were 
afar  off,  not  yet  awakened  from  their  sleep 
under  the  star  that  was  to  lead  them,  Cecco, 
the  charming  and  boyish  Cecco,  was  not  with- 
out friends.  They  grew  in  number  until 
Assisi  began  to  feel  a  certain  pride  in  so  gentle 
and  patient  a  man.  And  there  was  the  poor 
curate  of  St.  Damian's,  who,  knowing  how 
delicately  Francis  had  lived,  how  well  he  loved 
the  luscious  jellies,  tinct  with  cinnamon,  and 
the  delicious  marchpane,  in  which  the  cooks 
of  the  Middle  Ages  delighted,  and  how  sweet 
the  taste  of  the  almond  and  the  orange-flower 
was  to  his  lips,  provided  dainties  for  the  young 
brother  while  he  piled  higher  the  stones  of  the 
church  of  the  Portiuncula. 

HE  LONGS  FOR  PERFECT  POVERTY 

Francis  suddenly  awakened  to  the  fact  that 
he  was  ceasing  to  be  in  training  as  an  athlete 
of  the  spirit.  It  came  upon  him  that  his  kind 
friend  the  priest  was  holding  him  back  in  the 

race  for  perfection.     Out  he  rushed  from  the 

[53] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

priest's  house.  He  had  learned  at  Rome  what 
it  was  to  be  a  beggar  for  others;  now  he  became 
a  beggar  for  himself.  A  mother  about  to 
throw  the  scraps  of  her  children's  meal  away, 
a  servant  with  little  left  of  the  stew  of  lamb 
but  the  gristle,  the  boy  about  to  finish  his  piece 
of  bread  and  willing  to  relinquish  the  crust, 
were  astonished  and  touched  when  Francis 
begged  of  them.  Here  indeed  was  madness 
in  the  son  of  the  rich  merchant  who  might  have 
had  the  flesh  of  the  peacock  and  all  sorts  of 
concoctions  of  delicate  almond  paste  every 
day.  Did  he  go  to  Madonna  Pica,  and  did 
she  say,  with  San  Lorenzo  Giustiniani's  mother, 

This  blessing  be  with  me  forever! 

My  hope  and  doubt  were  hard  to  sever. 
That  altered  face,  those  holy  weeds, 
I  filled  his  wallet  and  kissed  his  beads. 

And  lost  his  echoing  feet  forever? 

It  is  probable  that  he  did  not  go  to  his 
mother,  knowing  that  he  would  not  receive 
what  he  desired.  He  came  back  with  the 
odds  and  ends  generally  given  by  people  to 
beggars.  The  sight  of  them  made  him  ill, 
but  he  bravely  satisfied  his  hunger  with  them, 

and   God  gave  him  pleasure  in  the  eating; 

[541 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

for  was  not  there  his  dear  and  pure  Sister 
Water,  who  serves  rich  and  poor,  whether  in 
an  earthen  pot  or  a  Venetian  goblet?  She, 
like  St.  Francis,  is  the  true  friend  of  Lady 
Poverty. 

A  PANTHEISM  ABOVE  THE  GOD  PAN 

Following  his  interpretation  of  the  meaning 
of  the  vision,  Francis,  having  restored  St. 
Damian's  and  St.  Peter's,  spent  two  years  in 
rebuilding  the  church  of  St.  Mary  of  the 
Angels.  The  idea  of  forming  a  new  religious 
order  had  not  taken  form  in  his  soul.  It  was 
enough  that  he  should  obey  the  voice.  He 
thought  of  doing  no  more.  He  did  not  dare 
to  aspire  to  be  a  priest.  Theology  he  revered, 
but  learning  that  did  not  concern  itself  im- 
mediately with  the  glory  of  God  he  detested. 
One  might  make  poems,  but  it  was  better  to 
live  them,  and  one  should  make  only  the 
poems  he  could  live.  Besides,  in  his  belief, 
books  were  as  nothing  compared  with  men 
and  the  things  of  nature.  To  get  nearer  to 
Christ  was  to  get  nearer  to  nature.  He  loved 
poetr>%  but  it  must  be  the  poetry  of  the  heart, 

[551 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

not  of  the  academies.  All  things  were  of  God; 
to  misuse  a  book  or  to  tread  on  a  written  sheet 
was  wrong,  for  in  the  book  or  on  the  sheet 
might  be  the  name  of  God  or  at  least  the 
letters  that  formed  His  name.  In  the  eyes  of 
Francis,  Pan  had  been  blessed  by  Christ. 
Paganism  —  what  was  natural  and  good  in 
paganism  —  was  Christian.  The  worm  in  the 
soil  was  a  symbol  of  the  humility  of  Christ, 
the  lily  of  his  purity,  the  birds  of  his  goodness 
and  love,  the  ravening  wolf  and  the  avaricious 
brigand  his  creatures  who  were  suffering  be- 
cause the  Lady  Poverty  was  despised,  and 
they  were  left  by  the  proud  of  the  earth  to 
starve  or  to  steal.  Francis  was  a  pantheist 
of  the  highest  pantheism. 

He  aspired  to  be  neither  of  the  order  of  the 
Crucified,  which  had  the  care  of  lepers,  nor  of 
the  learned  Benedictines.  In  speaking  he 
used  only  the  words  of  the  gospel,  but  not  as 
a  priest,  nor  with  the  authority  of  a  priest. 
His  simplicity  of  nature  and  his  purity  of  heart 
were  evident.  Francis  had  none  of  the  gifts  of 
a  great  preacher.     In  stature  he  was  not  tall, 

not  imposing,  but  his  expression  was  joyful 

[561 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

and  sweet;    his  smile  was  exquisite,  and  he 

had  good  teeth.     His  neck  was  thin,  —  indeed, 

his   whole   person   was   thin,  —  his   shoulders 

were  square,   he  was  erect,   his   arms  short, 

his  feet  small,  —  a  proof  of  nobihty.  Madonna 

Pica  had  said,  —  his  brown  hands  had  slim 

fingers,  his  skin  was  delicate,  and  his  beard  was 

thin  and  black.     His  face  was  delicately  oval, 

his  hair  thick,  his  eyebrows,  at  the  base  of  a 

low  forehead,   were  straight,   his  eyes  clear, 

though  their  color  is  indicated  only  as  clear 

and  dark,  and  his  nose  was  well  modeled.     His 

voice  was  soft ;  he  had  none  of  the  organ  tones 

which  his  brethren  who  followed  St.  Dominic 

were  cultivating  in  order  that  they  might  be, 

par  excellence,  the  preachers  of  Christendom. 

"But  his  words  were  as  fire,"  says  Thomas  of 

Celano,  and  he  preached  peace,  only  peace, 

through  the  way,  narrow  and  yet  joyful,  of 

his  Lord. 

There  is  no  authentically  recorded  word  or 

act  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  which  cannot  be 

expressed  in  the  terms  of  the  New  Testament, 

so  near  did  he  come  to  the  sacred  example  of 

Christ  as  written  in  the  gospels.     It  was  not 

[59] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

until  the  twenty-fourth  of  February,  1209,  in 
the  poor  Uttle  chapel  of  St.  Mary  at  the  Porti- 
uncula,  that  he  knew  the  full  meaning  of  his 
mission.  On  that  morning  he  assisted,  proba- 
bly alone  with  the  priest,  at  the  celebration  of 
the  mass.  At  the  gospel  of  the  day  he  was 
struck  by  the  words,  "Have  neither  gold  nor 
silver  nor  money  in  your  purse,  nor  wherewith 
to  carry  aught;  neither  two  habits  nor  shoes 
nor  a  stick." 

THE    LIGHT    STRENGTHENS 

Up  to  this  time  he  had  been  poor,  but  not  so 
utterly  poor  as  the  apostles  were  recommended 
to  be.  He  had  worn  shoes  and  he  had  carried 
a  bag  and  a  stick.  Now  he  cast  them  away, 
and  finally  assumed  the  peasant's  gown,  with 
a  cord  to  bind  it  about  the  waist.  The  gospel 
for  the  feast  of  St.  Mathias  is  not  the  same  to- 
day. It  was  taken  from  St.  Matthew;  there 
were  words  in  it  that  equally  tell  part  of  the 
message  Francis  drank  in  with  all  his  heart: 
"Take  up  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me 
because   I   am  meek,   and  humble  of  heart; 

and  you  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls.     For  my 

[601 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

yoke  is  sweet,  and  my  burden  light."  But 
the  words  that  struck  Francis  to  the  heart 
were  these  words:  "Take  neither  gold  nor 
silver  nor  money  in  your  purse,  nor  two  habits, 
nor  a  staff." 

"When  were  these  words  said?"  he  asked 
the  priest. 

"When  our  Lord  bade  his  apostles  go  forth," 
was  the  reply. 

He  understood  at  last.  Not  only  for  the 
rebuilding  of  churches  of  brick  and  mortar 
did  he  exist,  but  for  the  building  up  of  souls 
with  the  word  of  Christ.  His  precursor,  an 
unknown  man,  had  run  through  the  streets  of 
Assisi,  calling  out,  "Well-being  and  peace," 
and  had  then  disappeared.  The  real  herald 
of  the  Prince  of  Peace  had  now  come.  He 
spoke  in  simple  words,  to  all  who  would  listen, 
of  sorrow  for  offenses  against  that  perfection 
which  is  God,  of  penance,  and  of  the  amend- 
ment of  life.  Here  were  the  roads  to  peace. 
"The  peace  of  the  Lord  be  always  with  you," 
he  said. 

It  seems  that  a  lad  —  "puer,"  the  chronicle 
says  — came  first  to  him,  and  adoringly  fol- 

[611 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

lowed  him  wherever  he  went;  but  this  boy  is 
touched  for  a  moment  by  light,  and  then 
disappears.  The  first  follower  of  Francis  was 
Bernard  of  Quintavalle.  In  that  naive  and 
loving  collection  of  traditions  that  gathered 
about  Francis,^  "which,  like  the  most  beautiful 
things  in  nature,  the  flower  and  the  butterfly, 
should  be  touched  only  by  delicate  hands,"  2 
one  fmds  the  story  of  how  Bernard,  "the 
noblest  and  richest  and  wisest  in  Assisi,"  was 
brought  to  be  the  disciple  of  Francis  in  the 
hard  and  narrow  way.  Francis  was  wont  to 
say  that  Bernard  had  founded  the  order  of  the 
Friars  Minor,  for  he  had  offered  himself  naked 
to  the  arms  of  the  Crucified. 

During  the  two  years  Francis  had  spent  in 
Assisi  as  "a  fool  for  Christ's  sake,"  Bernard 
had  more  and  more  wondered  at  his  constancy, 
his  patience,  his  exact  observance  of  what  to 
many  seemed  impossible  —  the  counsel  of 
Christian  perfection.  He  had  known  Francis 
the  boy  and  the  youth.  Being  a  serious  man, 
he  marveled  at  the  change  in  him,  and  at  first 
it  struck  him  that  this  half-poet,  haU-chevaller 


>  "  Fioretti  di  San  Francesco  d'  Assisi."  »  Sabatier. 

[62] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

errant,  might  be  capable  of  anything.  Time 
wore  on.  Bernard,  oppressed,  as  all  good 
men  were  in  a  world  where  simony  was  almost 
the  rule  and  high  feudal  lords  and  barons, 
both  ecclesiastical  and  secular,  were  playing 
the  part  of  Judas  for  power  and  riches,  looked 
for  the  light  that  seemed  to  lead  this  young 
fool  to  acts  of  love  and  self-sacrifice. 

THE    FIRST    BROTHER 

Dependent  entirely  on  alms,  Francis  with 
great  simplicity  accepted  the  invitation  of 
Bernard  to  sup  and  lodge  in  his  house.  Ber- 
nard wanted  to  pluck  out  the  heart  of  the 
mystery  of  the  sanctity  of  this  strange  young 
man,  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  only  the  grace 
of  God  could  have  worked  this  miracle.  Ber- 
nard went  to  bed  first.  Afterward  Francis 
threw  himself  on  his  bed  in  the  same  room, 
and  pretended  to  sleep;  but  Bernard,  through 
the  curtains  of  his  bed,  watched  him  by  the 
light  of  the  little  lamp  of  oil.  He  heard  him 
"snoring  loudly,  in  fashion  as  though  he  slept 
right  soundly."     Thinking  Bernard  to  be  really 

asleep,  Francis  rose  and  said  fervently  in  a 

[63] 


EVERYBODY   S     ST.      FRANCIS 

low  tone,  "My  God!  my  God!"  and  only  that. 
And  so  he  remained  until  the  morning,  still 
repeating  the  sacred  words.  Rising  at  dawn, 
Bernard  said: 

"Brother  Francis,  I  am  resolved  to  depart 
from  the  ways  of  the  world,  and  to  follow  thee 
as  my  leader." 

The  heart  of  Francis  rose  in  great  joy. 

"Bernard,"  he  said,  "the  doing  of  what  you 
propose  is  such  a  wonderful  work  that  we 
must  ask  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  what  he  will 
have  us  do;  for  his  will  must  be  ours.  Let 
us  go,  then,  to  the  bishop's  house,  where  a 
good  priest  is;  let  us  hear  mass,  and  then  pray 
until  terce,  asking  God  that  by  our  three  times 
opening  the  missal  He  will  show  us  the  way 
which  it  pleases  Him  we  ought  to  take." 

THE    SCRIPTURAL    TESTS 

Bernard  assented,  doubtless  in  surprise.  They 
were  joined  by  a  third,  Peter  dei  Cattani, 
a  lawyer.  It  seemed  no  doubt  strange  that 
a  man  who  had  spent  the  night  in  the  con- 
templation of  God  should  not  know  the  will 

of  the  Master;   but  Francis  never  took  more 

[641 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

than  one  step  at  a  time.  The  second  was 
made  only  when  God  gave  the  sign. 

At  terce,  the  priest  in  the  bishop's  house 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  opened  the 
missal  three  times.  How  should  Francis  and 
Bernard  discover  the  path  of  perfection?  He 
read,  "If  thou  wilt  be  perfect,  go,  sell  what 
thou  hast,  and  give  it  to  the  poor  and  follow 
me,"  for  the  first  time,  in  the  words  from  St. 
Matthew.  For  the  second  time,  in  the  words 
from  St.  Luke,  he  read,  "Take  nothing  for 
your  journey,  neither  staff,  nor  scrip,  nor  bread, 
nor  money."  And  for  the  third  time,  in  those 
from  St.  Mark,  "If  any  man  will  follow  me, 
let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross." 

"Thou  hast  heard  the  counsel  of  Christ; 
let  us  fulfil  those  sacred  words,"  said  Francis; 
"and  blessed  be  our  Lord  Jesus  who  has  vouch- 
safed to  show  forth  his  life  in  the  holy  gospel!" 

Bernard  was  not  an  enthusiast.  He  does 
not  seem  to  have  struck  anybody  as  queer. 
He  was  not  quick  to  act;  but  when  he  acted, 
he  acted  thoroughly.  He  and  Peter  dei  Cat- 
tani  sold  all  they  had,  and,  with  the  help  of 
the  cheerful  Francis,  who,  it  must  be  said,  had 

[65] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

always  been  delighted  to  get  rid  of  money, 
distributed  it  among  the  poor.  Francis  en- 
joyed this  process  immensely.  Then  Sylvester, 
a  priest  from  whom  Francis  had  bought  stones, 
used  in  repairing  St.  Damian's  church,  hearing 
that  there  was  hard  cash  going  for  nothing, 
appeared  and  reminded  Francis  that  he  had 
not  paid  sufficiently. 

THE  MINSTRELS  OF  THE  GOOD  GOD 

Francis  was  astounded  by  this  avarice.    Could 

such  a  man  be  God's  servant?     "Very  well," 

Francis   said,   taking  handfuls   of  gold   from 

Bernard's  bag  and  putting  them  into  the  bosom 

of    Sylvester's   robe.     "There,    if   you   want 

more,   there's   more   here."     The   bystanders 

themselves  were  shocked  by  the  priest's  greed, 

but  he  went  away  with  the  money.     Three 

days  and  nights  he  kept  it,  but  Francis  prayed 

for  his  conversion  so  ardently  that  he  returned 

it. 

There  was  much  gossip  in  Assisi  at  this  time. 

The  companions  of  Francis  had  impoverished 

themselves  to  help  the  poor!     The  distribution 

of  coins  at  the  market-place  was  spoken  of  by 

[66] 


1-c 


^^^-'^f  'MOW    TVIA2Aa«I 


\v;.y'  ^et  rid  oi 

di  tribute  < 

joyed  this  process  immei  i  neii  Syivt^siei , 

apri(-^  "  ": I  stones, 

::>i.  i^^iiiiaL  .o  ciiiiicii,  heariiv"' 
laau  LiiLi':   a.     hard  cash  gomg  for  nothiiu. 


ch  fins'?' 

money.     Three 
da  nights  tie  kept  rt,  but  Francis  prayed 

for  his  conversion  so  ardently  that  he  returned 

n  •>.?  DOO)  distrii- 

ilace  was  spoken 


ST.     FRANCIS    RECEIVING    FOOD    FROM    A 
PEASANT    WOMAN    IN    ASSISI 


■»^     ■^ 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

every  fireside  and  in  every  field.  And  hearing 
this,  Agidius,  sometimes  called  Brother  Giles, 
was  drawn  to  Francis,  who  at  this  time  dwelt 
in  the  lepers'  hospital  with  Brother  Bernard 
and  Brother  Peter,  who  called  themselves 
simply  three  poor  men  of  Assisi  doing  penance. 
Giles  was  a  robust  man  who  Uked  obedience 
better  than  prayer.  Searching  for  Francis  in 
the  cool  of  the  morning,  he  came  to  a  cross-road. 
Whither  should  he  turn?  The  only  course  in 
his  extremity  was  to  ask  God  for  a  sign.  His 
prayer  was  answered;  he  took  the  road  to  the 
poor  hut  where  Francis  then  dwelt.  Francis 
himself  was  coming  out.  Falling  on  his  knees, 
Giles  begged  that  he  might  be  admitted  as  one 
of  the  companions. 

"Dearest  brother,"  said  Francis,  "God  has 
given  a  great  thing  to  thee.  If  the  emperor 
should  come  to  Assisi  in  order  to  choose  one 
of  its  citizens  as  his  knight  or  his  chamberlain, 
how  great  would  be  the  number  who  would 
wish  to  be  his?  Thou,  whom  the  Lord  has 
selected  to  be  of  His  court,  hast  infinitely  more 
reason  to  be  glad." 

They  ate  together  joyously.     Giles  was  well 
[691 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

dressed,  and  Francis  would  have  no  time  lost 
in  changing  his  fine  clothes  for  the  brown  robe 
of  the  "poor  men"  of  Assisi.  Forward  they 
went  to  the  town  to  fmd  cloth  for  Brother 
Giles's  habit.  On  their  way  they  met  an  old 
v/oman  in  wretched  rags,  begging. 

"For  the  love  of  the  Lord,  dear  brother," 
said  Francis,  "give  thy  fine  cloak  to  our  poor 
sister." 

Giles  gladly  obeyed,  and  his  cheerfulness  in 
obeying  brought  him  instant  peace  and  new 
pleasure.  And  thus  Brother  Giles  became 
"his  knight  of  the  round  table,"  as  Francis 
liked  to  call  this  honest  soldier.  His  reception 
probably  took  place  in  April,  1209.  No  record 
of  Brother  Giles's  life  previous  to  his  conver- 
sion has  been  found,  probably,  a  devout 
Franciscan  writes,  because  the  purely  historical 
features  of  a  saint's  life  were  of  little  or  no 
interest  to  the  thirteenth-century  biographer, 
and,  as  the  lives  of  saints  were  intended  to  be 
read  in  refectories  during  meals,  there  was  a 
comparative  disregard  of  all  that  did  not  tend 
to  edification.! 

' "  The  Golden  Sayings  of  the  Blessed  Brother  Giles  of  Assisi,"  Father 
Paschal  Robinson. 

[70] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

The  four  brothers  set  forth  to  let  the  Hght 
of  the  love  of  God  shine  before  men.  Francis 
sang  cheerfully  in  the  Provencal  tongue,  which 
he  had  learned  at  his  mother's  knee.  Never 
was  there  so  gay  a  band  of  penitents.  Mock- 
ery, or  the  hot  sun,  or  praise,  or  the  sound  of 
thunder,  could  not  make  them  less  joyous. 
In  giving  up  all,  they  had  gained  all.  Francis 
had  none  of  the  graces  or  affections  of  the 
ofTicial  orator  of  the  time.  He  was  ardent, 
direct,  simple,  aiming  directly  at  the  heart, 
and  hitting  the  core  of  the  heart.  Giles,  who 
had  no  eloquence,  said  when  Francis  had 
finished : 

"You  had  better  believe  what  Brother 
Francis  says;  his  advice  is  good."  Only, 
when  those  who  had  at  first  treated  them  as 
wild  men  from  the  woods  came  and  showed 
them  honor,  Giles  would  say,  "Our  true  glory 
is  lost  when  we  receive  glory  from  creatures." 

THE  ECONOMISTS  ARE  AROUSED 

But  their  success  in  moving  hearts  to  the  love 
of  God  and  the  amendment  of  life  was  mar- 
velous.    This  was  especially  so  in  the  province 

[71] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.      FRANCIS 

of  the  Marches  of  Ancona,  the  Uttle  birthplace 
of  that  Frederick,  the  antithesis  of  Francis, 
who  was  at  this  time  fifteen  years  of  age. 
Three  others  were  shortly  after  this  added  to 
their  number,  Sabbatino,  Morico,  and  Gio- 
vanni of  the  Hat,  so  called  because  he  would 
wear  a  hat  instead  of  the  hood  affected  by  his 
brethren,  and  of  whom  unkind  things  were 
afterward  said. 

The  brethren  continued  to  increase  in  num- 
bers. Among  them  was  Angelo  Tancredi, 
another  soldier,  young  and  chivalrous,  who 
came,  according  to  the  words  of  Francis,  "to 
exchange  sword-belt  and  sword  and  spurs  for 
the  cord,  the  cross,  and  the  dust  on  his  feet." 
"I  consecrate  thee,"  he  added,  "knight  of  the 
army  of  the  Lord." 

Assisi  began  to  grow  tired  of  these  poor  men, 
and  the  Portiuncula  was  too  small  to  hold 
them.  They  acquired,  probably  through  Bro- 
ther Morico,  the  privilege  of  occupying  several 
little  buildings  at  Rivo  Torto,  not  far  from  the 
Portiuncula.  These  buildings  belonged  to  a 
religious  order  of  the  Crucified.  The  relatives 
and  acquaintances  of  Francis  said  constantly 

[72] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

that  his  followers  had  given  up  their  own 
property  in  order  to  prey  upon  that  of  others. 
The  old  story  of  his  having  sold  his  father's 
precious  stuffs  for  a  song  at  Foligno  was  re- 
ceived again  with  scorn,  and  there  were  those 
who  asked  how  he  could  hold  his  promise  to 
keep  the  lamp  perpetually  lit  before  the  crucifix 
in  the  church  of  St.  Damian  when  he  despised 
money,  for  how  was  oil  to  be  had  without 

money? 

In  a  word,  the  sympathy  which  the  sim- 
plicity of  young  Francis  had  gained  did  not 
extend  to  his  followers,  who  were  "too  old  to 
be  carried  away  by  such  vagaries";    conse- 
quently, the  winter  in  the  squalid  structures 
at  Rivo  Torto  was  wretched.     It  is  true  that, 
according   to    the    precepts    of   Francis,    the 
brothers   worked   whenever   they   could   find 
work  to  do,  but  they  were  forbidden  to  take 
current  wages  for  their  work;  they  must  accept 
only    what   was    absolutely    necessary.    The 
outcries  of  the  Assisians  against  these  per- 
verted creatures  who  disturbed  economic  con- 
ditions  and  begged  voluntarily  reached  the 
ears  of  the  Bishop  of  Assisi,  Guido  by  name. 

[73] 


everybody's     ST.     FRANCIS 

He  remonstrated  with  Francis.  Was  not  his 
zeal  leading  him  into  an  excess  of  self-denial? 
How  was  it  possible  to  live  without  property? 
"If  we  had  property,"  answered  Francis, 
*'we  should  have  to  fight  in  order  to  defend  it. 
The  goods  of  the  world  cannot  be  kept  without 
appeals  to  the  law  and  without  contentions, 
without  violence  and  war.  All  this  means 
the  ruin  of  the  love  of  God  and  our  neighbors. 
For  these  reasons  we  shall  never  willingly 
possess  the  things  of  the  earth." 

THE    WORLD    VERSUS    POVERTY 

The  bishop  could  say  nothing  to  this.  He 
had  troubles  of  his  own,  caused  by  the  con- 
stant effort  to  retain  his  temporalities,  and 
his  opponents  were  among  the  Benedictines 
and  the  Crucified.  Even  at  this  time,  before 
the  Emperor  Frederick  was  old  enough  to 
attempt  to  be  absolute  in  Italy,  the  various 
governments  had  become  most  oppressive; 
class  was  against  class,  and  even  bishop  against 
bishop.  There  was  no  peace  for  the  church 
because  she  was  growing  in  riches.     Francis 

knew  this  too  well,  and  Bishop  Guido  himself 

[74] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

knew,  too,  that  the  burden  of  his  position  was 
made  heavier  by  the  constant  vigilance  he 
exercised  in  defending  its  temporal  appendages. 
Nevertheless,  the  bishop  had  no  sympathy 
with  beggars  who  might,  by  using  some  of 
their  worldly  goods,  cease  to  be  beggars.  But, 
as  Jorgensen  points  out,^  Francis  knew  what 
Leo  Tolstoi  preached  in  our  time  —  that  the 
possession  of  any  personal  property,  however 
small,  is  an  obstacle  to  the  leading  of  an  abso- 
lutely Christlike  life.  All  brothers  must  work, 
—  that  was  but  following  the  life  of  Christ,  — 
but  they  must  work  not  for  gain,  but  for  the 
necessities  of  life.  "He  who  will  not  work 
ought  not  to  eat,  and  each  must  work  at  the 
work  he  can  do."  Cast  out  by  their  own, 
strangers  began  to  be  kind  to  them  at  Rivo 
Torto;  yet  one  who  had  put  a  large  sum  on 
the  altar  of  the  Portiuncula  found  it  later  on 
a  pile  of  refuse  in  the  road.  The  advice  of  the 
bishop  had  fallen  on  unreceptive  soil. 

At  Rivo  Torto,  Francis  had  written  a  few 
words  for  the  guidance  of  his  brethren,  based 
on  the  counsels  of  perfection  left  by  Christ. 


1 "  St.  Francis  d'  Assisi,"  Johannes  Jorgensen. 

[751 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.      FRANCIS 

But  he  felt  that  he  needed  authoritative  sup- 
port. He  had  not  founded  a  rehgious  order; 
and  if  he  had,  the  approbation  of  the  pope 
would  not  have  been  necessary  to  him  in  1210. 
Five  years  later  the  Council  of  the  Lateran 
decided  otherwise.  But  he  wanted  his  fol- 
lowers to  have  the  right  to  preach,  which  was 
confined  to  priests.  This  right  had  already 
been  granted  to  Pierre  Vaud,  to  Durand  de 
Huesca  and  his  Cathohc  Vaudois,  and  to  other 
laymen. 

The  Bishop  of  Assisi  was  already  at  Rome 
in  the  summer  of  1210.  Francis  was  not  sure 
of  his  support,  but  he  knew  that,  as  a  fellow 
Assisian,  he  would  not  oppose  him,  the  blood 
of  Assisi  being  thicker  than  water  when  alien 
Italians  appeared.  Francis  was  a  layman,  — 
even  after  he  had  received  his  tonsure  he  was 
not  a  priest,  —  and  he  had  none  of  the  privi- 
leges or  the  rights  of  a  priest,  nor  had  Bernard 
of  Quintavalle,  who  undertook  to  guide  the 
little  band  to  the  tomb  of  St.  Peter,  which 
Francis  loved.  They  sang,  prayed,  and 
worked  at  whatever  honorably  came  to  their 

hands  on  their  way. 

[76] 


r 
to  PI 

o 


o 


^  '^ 


r 
o 

H 

w 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

Once  at  Rome,  Guido  presented  them  to 
Cardinal  John  of  St.  Paul,  Bishop  of  Sabina, 
a  member  of  the  princely  house  of  Colonna. 
The  bishop  may  have  thought  that  this  noble 
person,  whose  days  had  been  magnificent, 
might  persuade  Francis  to  mitigate  the  strin- 
gency of  his  spiritual  athletic  exercise  and  the 
hardness  of  his  physical  life.  The  cardinal 
invited  the  little  band  to  be  his  guests.  He 
was  most  kind;  but  after  having  examined 
Francis  and  his  brethren  as  to  their  plans,  he 
told  them  that  they  were  trying  to  knock  their 
heads  against  a  solid  rock.  Francis  was  will- 
ing to  do  even  this,  if  it  pleased  God.  The 
cardinal  was  amazed  and  touched.  "Pray  for 
me,"  he  said,  "and  hold  me  as  one  of  your 
little  brothers." 

,     AT    ROME 

It  is  said  that  Francis  was  troubled  by  the 
delay  that  was  usual  at  the  court  of  Rome, 
where  haste  was  looked  upon  as  a  vice,  and 
that  one  day  he  and  his  poorly  clad  flock 
made  their  way  to  the  palace  of  the  Lateran, 
and   reached   the   gallery   of   the   Belvedere, 

[79] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.      FRANCIS 

where  Innocent  III  was  walking.  It  was  not 
a  propitious  time.  The  people  of  Rome  were 
turbulent  and  threatening.  Not  long  since 
they  had  driven  the  pope  from  his  tower  of 
refuge,  Torre  dei  Conti.  He  looked  out  now 
on  dissensions  everywhere,  and  dissensions 
occasioned  by  avarice  and  the  lust  of  power. 
Besides,  the  Saracens  threatened,  and  a  new 
crusade  was  ardently  desired  in  order  to  curb 
their  power,  which  was  not  only  physical,  but 
insidiously  intellectual.  The  favor  Pope  Alex- 
ander III  had  shown  to  the  merchant  Pierre 
Vaud  in  1179  and  his  "Poor  Men  of  Lyons" 
who  had  preached  poverty  had  been  turned 
against  the  holy  see.  Innocent  had  reason  to 
dread  the  social  disturbances  made  by  dema- 
gogues in  the  name  of  Christlike  poverty. 
Assisi  itself  had  not  long  before  burned  its 
citadel  rather  than  let  it  pass  into  the  posses- 
sion of  Innocent.  Arnold  of  Brescia's  attack 
on  the  possession  of  property  was  still  vibrat- 
ing, and  at  the  apparition  of  these  strange, 
weird  figures,  the  pontiff  doubtless  believed 
that  there  was  a  new  invasion  of  queer  here- 
tics bent  on  destroying  all  vested   interests. 

[80] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

He   had   them    driven    out,    and   they   went 
humbly. 

That   night   the   perplexed   pontiff   had    a 
dream  of  a  little  palm  that  sprang  up  at  his 
feet  and  became  a  splendid  tree.    He  told  this 
dream  to  the  Cardinal  of  St.  Paul.     The  poor 
little  palm,  somehow  or  other,  brought  to  his 
mind  the  slim  figure  of  Francis.     The  cardinal 
answered  that  he  knew  that  Francis  was  a 
veritably  perfect  man,  resolved  to  follow  to 
the   letter   the   evangelical   counsels   and   to 
revive  the  faith  of  the  whole  church,  which 
was  failing  day  by  day.     The  pope  said  that 
he  would  hke  to  see  this  man  again,  so  Inno- 
cent  HI   and   Francis  met.     The  pope   was 
impressed  by  the  simpHcity  and  earnestness 
of  Francis  and  by  some  unknown  force  that 
seemed  to  proceed  from  him.     He  feared  to 
approve  of  the  utter,  voluntary  poverty  of  the 
life  proposed  by  this  man,  yet  to  disapprove 
of  it  would  be,  as  the  Cardinal  of  St.  Paul 
pointed  out,  to  offend  against  the  teachings  of 
Christ:   "for  if  any  man  say  that  the  observ- 
ance and  the  vow  of  evangehcal  perfection 
contains  anything  irrational  or  impossible  to 

[81] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

be  observed,  he  is  convicted  of  blasphemy 
against  Christ,  the  author  of  the  gospel." 

INNOCENT    ACCORDS    THE    RIGHT    TO 
PREACH    IN    1210 

The  pope  again  sent  to  Francis.  And  Francis, 
having  prayed  for  light,  spoke  to  the  holy 
father  in  a  parable  in  which,  according  to  St. 
Bonaventure,  he  told  of  a  great  king  who  had 
married  a  beautiful,  but  lowly  and  poor,  wife. 
This  king  nourished  the  children  of  this  poor 
woman  at  the  royal  table.  Could  God  do  less 
for  His  children  born  of  poverty?  Had  not 
Christ,  preaching  evangelical  poverty,  prom- 
ised an  eternal  kingdom  to  his  followers? 
Will  he  fail,  then,  to  give  them  what  is  sulTi- 
cient  for  this  life?  Still  the  pontiff  hesitated. 
He  had  seen  other  failures  in  his  time.  Clair- 
vaux  itself  had  not  fulfilled  the  hopes  of  St. 
Bernard.  This  great  foundation,  according  to 
Bossuet,  'Timage  la  plus  achevee  de  Vancienne 
eglise"  lost  much  of  its  glory  in  losing  its 
founder. 

Innocent  HI  heard  Francis,  and  there  flashed 

across  his  mind  the  memory  of  another  vision 

[82] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

he  had  had,  in  which  he  had  seen  the  trembhng 
edifice  of  the  Lateran  supported  by  a  beggar. 
At  last  he  said:  "Go  with  the  blessing  of  the 
Lord,  and  preach  repentance  to  all  in  your 
own  way;  and  when  the  Almighty  shall  have 
made  you  grow  in  grace  and  in  numbers, 
return  to  me  joyously  for  greater  favors." 
Francis  thanked  the  holy  father  most  humbly, 
and  went  away  singing  the  praises  of  God. 

The  Cardinal  of  St.  Paul  gathered  the  poor 
men  together,  and  permitted  the  laymen  among 
them  to  wear  a  tonsure  smaller  than  that  of 
priests.  There  is  great  reason  to  believe  that 
Francis  was  ordained  deacon  ^  by  the  Bishop 
of  Assisi.  But  the  pontiff  and  the  curia  were 
very  careful;  the  right  to  preach  granted  to 
these  laymen  covered  only  moral  questions. 
They  were  not  sufficiently  learned  in  theology 
to  be  permitted  to  teach  on  matters  of  dogma. 

After  a  devout  visit  to  the  tombs  of  the 
apostles,  the  brethren  started  for  the  valley  of 
Spoleto.  They  were  exaltedly  happy.  They 
sang,  they  talked,  and  forgot  all  except  the 
joy  of  their  mission.     Should  they  fix  them- 

» But  this  did  not  make  him  a  priest. 

[851 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

selves  in  the  country  places  or  in  the  cities? 
This  was  a  question  which  they  did  not  decide 
until  they  halted  for  rest  near  the  town  of 
Orta.  They  had  suffered  much  in  the  summer 
heat  of  the  Campagna,  having  once  been 
saved  from  starvation  by  a  man  who,  appearing 
suddenly,  gave  them  bread  and  went  away  at 
once.  Having  consulted  with  the  brethren, 
Francis  concluded  that  the  cities  offered  them 
the  greater  chances  for  spreading  the  love  of 
God. 

*'The  country  was  made  by  God  and  the 
cities  by  man,"  said  one  of  the  brethren,  bred 
in  the  country,  "and  therefore  the  country  is 
better  for  us." 

AT    THE    CROOKED    RIVER 

"Not  so,"  said  Francis;  "God  made  all." 
And  they  moved  toward  Assisi,  to  the  Rivo 
Torto  —  the  crooked  river.  There,  in  the 
deserted  cabins,  the  space  was  so  small  that 
Francis  had  to  write  the  names  of  each  brother 
on  the  spot  he  must  occupy.  Few  people 
came  near  them.  A  wooden  cross  was  their 
only  oratory.     They  had  no  books,  but  Francis 

[86] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

told  them,  looking  upon  the  autumnal  beauties 
of  the  Umbrian  valley,  that  created  things 
were  the  best  of  all  books.  They  must  always 
be  in  sympathy  with  nature  as  well  as  with 
poverty. 

THE    VERY    LITTLE    BRETHREN 

The  Emperor  Otto  of  Brunswick  passed  on 
his  way  to  be  crowned  by  Innocent;  Francis 
did  not  go  to  meet  him,  but  sent  one  of  the 
brethren,  who  warned  him  of  the  sorrows  that 
would  come  to  him.  The  news  of  the  victory 
of  Francis  at  Rome  over  the  prudence  of  the 
pope  and  the  doubts  of  the  sacred  college  had 
spread.  It  was  known  that  he  ha.^  the  right  to 
preach.  The  priests  of  St.  George  invited 
him  to  their  pulpit ;  so  likewise  did  the  Bishop 
of  Assisi.  The  basilica  of  his  native  city  could 
not  hold  the  crowds  that  came.  Nobody  had 
ever  spoken  like  this  man.  And  the  first 
fruits  of  his  work  was  the  peace  he  made  be- 
tween the  ever-warring  factions  of  his  city, 
the  patricians  and  the  plebeians,  the  majors 
and    the    minors.     By    this    convention    the 

minors  were  relieved  from  serfdom,  and  war 

[87] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.      FRANCIS 

could  not  be  made  or  treaties  ratified  except 
by  the  consent  of  both  parties.  About  this 
time  the  priest  Sylvester,  who  had  claimed  for 
his  dues  in  the  market-place  of  Assisi,  and  had 
been  smitten  with  repentance,  joined  the  little 
community,  its  first  priest.  About  this  time, 
too,  Francis  was  struck  by  the  humility  of  the 
word  "minors."  Was  it  not  the  name  of  the 
poorest  class  of  the  people,  those  he  loved  best? 
And  was  it  not  held  in  honor  by  Christ?  Ah, 
his  brothers  should  be  called  the  very  little 
Brothers  of  Poverty;  and  so  they  were  named 
by  him  Friars  Minor. 

Francis  had  great  charity  for  his  little 
brothers,  and  they  lived  in  the  sweetest  har- 
mony at  Rivo  Torto.  "I  am  ill  of  hunger," 
said  a  friar  one  night.  Now,  the  fast  was  a 
solemn  thing  to  this  brother,  and  he  dared  not 
break  it.  To  do  so  might  seem  greedy  and 
even  sinful;  and  so,  understanding  his  scruples, 
Francis  invited  others  to  eat  with  him,  so  that 
he  might  not  seem  luxurious  in  eating  alone 
at  an  unusual  time.  A  sick  brother  longed  for 
grapes,   and  Francis  ate  them  with  him  to 

quiet  his  scruples.     The  friars  dwelt  at  Rivo 

[88] 


BEGINNING     OF     THE     NEW     LIFE 

Torto  until  one  day  a  peasant  rudely  drove 
an  ass  into  the  hut  where  they  were. 

"Our  mission,"  said  Francis,  taking  this  as 
a  sign,  "is  not  to  keep  a  stable  for  asses,  but 
to  pray  and  to  show  men  the  way  of  salvation." 
So  back  to  the  Portiuncula  they  went,  and  it 
was  in  the  shadow  of  the  Portiuncula  that  the 
mystical  rose  of  the  Franciscan  movement, 
incomplete  without  the  feminine  influence,  was 
to  bloom.  Though  he  did  not  know  it  then, 
Francis  went  back  to  find  Clara,  the  young 
daughter  of  Favorino  de  Scifi,  who  was  to 
become  his  own  little  daughter  in  the  love  of 
Christ.  This  was  to  take  place  on  March  18, 
1212. 


189] 


Ill 


THE  WOLF  OF  GUBBIO  AND  THE  COMING 
OF  SANTA  CLARA 

RAN  CIS  was  now  free  to  preach; 
formerly  a  bishop  or  a  parish 
priest  might  object  to  an  un- 
accredited layman's  assuming 
the  prerogatives  of  the  or- 
dained. As  the  Cathohc  Church,  the  central 
basis  of  which  is  authority,  refuses  the  Bible 
to  the  unlearned  unless  it  is  accompanied 
by  an  authoritative  interpretation,  so  a 
preacher  unauthorized  by  superior  authority 
is  suspect.  Francis  had  desired  the  blessing 
of  Innocent  III  for  his  way  of  life;  but  even 
more  he  had  desired  the  permission  he  now 
received. 

In  1211  the  Benedictines,  to  whom  the 
chapel  of  the  Portiuncula  belonged,  gave  it  to 
Francis;  but  he  refused  to  own  it,  and  rented 
it  for  a  basket  of  fish,  to  be  sent  annually  to  its 
owners.     On  the  altar  was  a  picture  of  the 

"Assumption   of  our   Lady,"   and   from   the 

[90] 


THE     WOLF     OF     GUBBIO 

symbols  in  the  picture  the  chapel  was  known  as 
that  of  "Our  Lady  of  the  Angels."     In  the 
wood  near  the  place,  which  Francis  loved,  the 
brethren  built  a  hut  of  interwoven  branches, 
thatched  with  mud  and  leaves.     They  slept 
on   straw,   and  the   ground   served  both   for 
tables  and  for  chairs.     There  were  no  inclo- 
sures  about  their  cabins  except  hedges.     The 
cabin,  the  earliest  model  of  a  Franciscan  es- 
tablishment,  and  that  which  Francis  hoped 
would  always  be  the  model,  was  called  luogo. 
The  word  "convent,"  afterward  substituted, 
implied  a  giving  way  to  the  relaxation  Francis 
feared  from  the  influence  of  prudent  prelates 
and  the  learned;  for  it  must  be  admitted  that, 
excepting  the  people  who  concerned  themselves 
with  making  cheerful  songs  and  the  pious  in- 
terpretation of  the  word  of  God,  Francis  had 
a   pathetic   horror   of   the   learned.     As   the 
colony  of  the  Portiuncula  grew,  new  buildings 
were    made    of    wood,    plastered    with    mud. 
The  friars  must  dwell  in  them  as  pilgrims  and 

strangers. 

The  influence  of  Francis  was  so  great  at 
this  time  that  all  received  his  decisions  with 

[911 


everybody's     ST.     FRANCIS 

joy,  and  the  wretched  cabins  in  the  wood 
seemed  to  be  the  vestibules  of  paradise.  He 
was  looked  on  as  the  living  symbol  of  Christ, 
for,  it  must  be  repeated,  that  abstractions  did 
not  appeal  to  the  medieval  folk.  Here  was  a 
man  who  did  what  Christ  had  counseled  —  not 
commanded  —  those  who  would  follow  him 
perfectly  to  do.  His  example  in  the  way  of 
perfection  was  not  for  everybody.  It  was 
enough  for  these  brethren  that  they  had 
answered  the  call.  Their  lamps  must  shine 
before  all  men,  because  Christ  lived  in  them, 
but  gently,  sweetly,  as  light  falls. 

In  the  beginning  there  were  murmurs  against 
this  imprudent,  unwise,  and  unworldly  way  of 
life.  Common  sense  was  against  it;  but, 
then,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  Roman 
patrician,  the  aristocratic  citizen  of  Jerusalem, 
and  the  well-fed  money-changers,  Christ  him- 
self was  not  a  person  of  common  sense.  This 
opinion  was  not  that  of  Brother  Bernard,  the 
kind  and  patient,  or  of  Brother  Giles,  the 
loving  and  literal,  or  of  Brother  Junipero,  who 
was  one  of  the  jongleurs  du  bon  Dieu,  but  per- 
haps it  was  of  Brother  John,  who  wore  a  hat 

[92] 


THE     WOLF     OF     GUBBIO 

and  left  the  community  because  he  could  not 
see  how  sensible  men  could  live  without  money. 
If  the  farmers  did  not  employ  the  brothers, 
they  had  to  live  on  what  they  could  beg. 
Roots  and  edible  leaves,  without  the  condi- 
ments that  Francis  loved  in  his  salads,  were, 
with  cold  water,  often  their  only  portion. 
The  gray  of  the  olive-tree,  the  speckled  red- 
and-white  roses,  and  the  changing  sky,  held 
great  consolation  for  the  little  band,  and 
Francis,  singing  of  the  wonders  of  God  in 
nature,  kept  love  aflame  within  their  hearts. 
To-day  we  ask  with  Brother  John,  who  was 
probably  not  the  Judas  some  of  the  shocked 
brethren  believed  him  to  be,  but  only  a  practi- 
cal person  who  wished  to  have  his  own  way, 
How  could  they  be  happy  on  nothing  a  day? 

It  must  be  remembered  that  at  this  time 
Francis  was  not  thinking  of  improving  the 
general  condition  of  labor.  A  beggar  who 
asked  alms  and  a  great  prince,  with  a  magnifi- 
cent court,  were  equal  in  his  eyes,  though  he 
loved  the  beggar  more  because  he  was  poor. 
Francis  did  not  work  for  the  laborer  alone; 

[95] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.      FRANCIS 

he  worked  for  everybody,  and  everybody  must 
pray  or  work  or  beg  for  everybody  else,  that 
the  kingdom  of  Christ  on  earth  might  be  ful- 
filled. As  he  grew  older,  and  the  counsels  of 
prudence  and  common  sense  prevailed  among 
his  brethren,  and  they  became  learned,  and 
ceased  to  wear  the  meanest  clothes  and  to  live 
in  mud-thatched  huts,  his  heart  wept.  One 
day  he  left  his  cell  for  a  few  moments,  and  a 
friar  came  to  him. 

"Whence  came  you,  Brother?"  he  asked. 

"I  came  from  your  cell,"  the  friar  replied. 

"Since  you  have  called  it  mine,"  Francis 
answered,  "let  another  dwell  there,  and  not  I." 

His  brothers  who  were  near  him  many 
times  heard  him  say,  "Foxes  have  holes,  and 
the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests;  but  the  Son 
of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head." 

What  could  people  of  common  sense  do  with 
such  a  man?  He  had  forced  the  hard-headed 
Innocent  HI  to  bless  his  "impossibilities" 
cordially,  and  all  of  a  sudden  the  whole  world 
was  running  after  him.  Unless  we  have  some- 
thing in  our  hearts  that  yearns  to  love  as  he 

loved,  we  must  put  this  phenomenon  down  to 

[96] 


THE     WOLF     OF     GUBBIO 

the  mysteries  of  the  medieval  heart.  New 
brethren  came  flocking  to  Portiuncula. 
Brother  Thomas  of  Celano  in  his  rhetorical 
way  tells  us  that  the  brethren  really  loved 
one  another.  They  recited  the  breviary  as 
though  they  were  priests,  ever  and  anon  cry- 
ing out  in  spiritual  and  vocal  unison,  "Our 
Father  who  art  in  heaven!" 

ANECDOTES    OF    FRANCIS 

The  heart  of  the  time  would  be  wholly  exalted 
or  not  at  all.  Francis  said  to  the  man  who 
was  willing  to  give  his  money  to  his  relatives, 
but  not  to  the  poor:  "Go,  Brother  Fly! 
Go!"  With  Francis,  "Brother  Fly"  was 
a  term  of  reproach.  Fired  by  his  preaching, 
an  ardent  young  peasant,  driving  two  oxen, 
came  in  his  way. 

"What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?"  asked  the 
honest  man. 

"Give  all  you  have  to  the  poor." 
The  peasant  unharnessed  one  of  the  oxen. 
"This  one,"  he  said,  "I  will  take  with  me  when 
I  go  to  the  Portiuncula;  that  one  I  will  give 

to  the  poor." 

[97] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

Francis,  who  had  rejected  all  the  property 
of  rich  disciples,  smiled  at  the  simplicity  of  the 
man.  "I  accept,"  he  said;  "yet  first  let  us 
see  your  father  and  mother." 

But  the  old  folks  made  difTiculties.  They 
regretted  the  loss  of  their  son,  but  quite  as 
much  they  seemed  to  regret  the  loss  of  the  ox. 

"Let  us  make  a  bargain,"  Francis  said. 
"I  will  take  your  son,  and  give  you  back  his 
ox."  The  chronicler  leads  us  to  believe  that 
the  old  couple  were  willing  to  agree  to  this. 

The  power  of  Francis  with  all  animate 
things  was  marvelous.  This  is  one  fact  that 
permeates  all  the  legends,  and  on  which  all 
his  biographers  agree.  And  he  had  the  gift 
of  reading  the  minds  of  those  he  loved.  There 
is  a  story  of  a  young  friar  who  believed  that 
Francis  disliked  him.  One  day  when  this 
brother  was  particularly  unhappy,  thinking 
that  the  dislike  of  Francis  meant  some  serious 
fault  on  his  part,  some  ingrained  sin,  for  he 
knew  that  Francis  loved  all  created  things, 
the  dew  of  refreshment  fell  upon  him.  Francis 
read  his  mind  and  said :  "  Come  to  me.  When- 
ever you  desire  to  talk  of  heavenly  things, 

[98] 


.»« 


the  simple-hearted  pre1>  rl  the 

wolf              real  wolf;  Uic 

simple-hearted  ihao  most 

of  l;::' 

>  He  g-. 
iQ  ^e  c:i   i:ie  side  oi  iDe 
.iie  angels  is  the  only  way  of 
^.-  it.     It  cannot  be  in  the  least 
d    from    the   modern   analytical 
evil,  as  Coventry  Pat- 
analyst,  and  we  all 
Knovv  zfuerite  after  she 

*ore  the  dai 

■' -   story  o:  II..  (GuLbio) 

f  101  ] 

ST.     FRANCIS     SUBJUCiATING    THE    WOLF 
OF    GUBBIO 


oiaauo  TO 


THE     WOLF     OF     GUBBIO 

come  to  me."    And  the  forlorn  young  man 
was  made  happy. 

THE    WOLF    OF    GUBBIO 

Whether  the  story  of  the  conversation  of 
Francis  with  the  wolf  of  Gubbio  is  true  or  not, 
or,  as  has  been  suggested,  it  is  a  sublimated 
version  of  his  interview  with  the  haughty 
patricians  of  Assisi  and  their  former  slaves,  the 
plebeians,  it  is  certain  that  the  children  and 
the  simple-hearted  prefer  to  believe  that  the 
wolf  was  a  real  wolf;  and  children  and  the 
simple-hearted  are  nearer  to  God  than  most 
of  us.  The  story  of  Francis,  who  was  a  saint 
largely  because  he  was  un  uomo  de  genio,  is 
so  wonderful  that  to  be  on  the  side  of  the 
children  and  of  the  angels  is  the  only  way  of 
understanding  it.  It  cannot  be  in  the  least 
comprehended  from  the  modern  analytical 
point  of  view.  The  devil,  as  Coventry  Pat- 
more  says,  was  the  first  analyst,  and  we  all 
know  what  happened  to  Marguerite  after  she 
tore  the  daisy  to  pieces. 

The  story  of  the  wolf  of  Agobio  (Gubbio) 
is  told  in  the  twenty-first  chapter  of  "I  Fio- 

[101] 


EVERYBODY     S     ST.     FRANCIS 

retti."  It  seems  that  at  one  time  Francis 
dwelt  in  the  city  of  Gubbio.  Now,  the  citizens 
were  very  unhappy  because  there  was  a  wolf 
near  the  town,  and  the  wolf  gave  them  no 
peace  by  day  or  night.  Mothers  were  afraid 
to  let  their  children  play  about.  The  men 
were  armed,  but  so  furious  was  this  beast  that 
even  weapons  seemed  useless  against  him,  or 
at  least  the  men  were  afraid  to  use  them.  The 
fright  of  the  men  might  not  have  moved 
Francis,  but  the  terror  of  the  mothers  and 
children  he  could  not  endure;  and,  then,  in 
his  opinion  both  the  citizens  and  the  wolf  were 
to  blame.  The  wolf  had  never  been  spoken 
to  of  Christ,  and  he  acted  only  according  to 
his  nature;  for  wolves  must  eat.  The  citizens 
had  not  remembered  that  he  was  God's  crea- 
ture, and  that,  therefore,  they  should  have 
made  a  friend  of  him.  Francis  determined 
to  force  the  beast  to  hear  reason.  Despite 
the  advice  of  the  people,  he  went  out  to  meet 
the  wolf,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross.  His 
brethren  accompanied  him  part  of  the  way, 
but  waited  at  a  safe  distance  with  the  people 

who  had  come  out  to  view  the  fearful  sight. 

[1021 


THE     WOLF     OF     GUBBIO 

The  wolf  rushed  at  Francis  with  open 
mouth.  Francis  made  over  him  the  sign  of 
the  cross,  and  said  gently : 

"I  command  thee,  Brother  Wolf,  on  the 
part  of  Christ,  that  you  do  not  do  harm  to  me 
or  anybody." 

Upon  this  the  terrible  wolf  lay  down  like  a 
lamb  at  the  feet  of  Francis.  He  had  been 
addressed  properly,  —  a  thing  which  had  never 
happened  before,  —  and  he  was  willing  to 
hear  reason. 

''Brother  Wolf,"  continued  Francis,  "you 
have  done  great  evil  here,  hunting  and  killing 
God's  own  without  His  permission,  and  not 
only  eating  animals,  but  men  created  in  the 
image  of  God;  and  so  you  have  made  yourself 
a  thief  and  a  murderer  of  the  worst  kind,  and 
deserve  to  be  hanged  like  a  criminal.  And 
everybody  hates  you,  and  voices  that  hatred. 
But  I  would  make  peace  between  you  and  the 
men  of  Gubbio,  if  you  will  offend  no  more. 
They  will  pardon  you,  and  neither  men  nor 
dogs  shall  molest  you." 

The  wolf,  who  had  not  eaten  people  mali- 
ciously or  for  amusement,  but  because  he  was 

[1031 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

hungry,  showed  by  the  expression  of  his  eyes 
and  the  movements  of  his  head  and  tail  that 
he  agreed  with  Francis  and  was  wilUng  to 
accept  his  decision.  But  Francis,  according 
to  the  manner  of  the  Middle  Ages,  exacted  a 
symbol  of  the  good  faith  of  the  wolf.  Brother 
Wolf  must  give  his  paw  upon  it,  on  condition 
that  Francis  would  see  that  the  people  of 
Assisi  fed  him  every  day.  This  peace  having 
been  arranged,  the  wolf,  much  to  the  amaze- 
ment of  the  citizens,  meekly  followed  Francis 
to  hear  him  preach.  Francis  told  them  that 
sin  was  the  occasion  of  the  evils  that  befell 
them.  The  flames  of  God's  punishment,  he 
said,  with  the  wolf  standing  near  him  and 
listening  attentively,  are  more  terrible  than 
the  teeth  of  an  animal  that  can  destroy  only 
the  body.  "Go,  then,  dear  brethren,  to  God, 
and  do  penance  for  your  offenses  against  Him, 
and  He  will  save  you  from  the  flames  of  hell." 
And  then  Francis  asked  Brother  Wolf  again 
to  put  his  right  paw  into  his  right  hand,  in 
the  presence  of  witnesses,  as  a  pledge  that  he 
would  keep  his  part  of  the  agreement;    for 

Francis  no  doubt  felt  that  it  would  be  hard, 

[104] 


J 


THE     WOLF     OF     GUBBIO 

unless  his  brother  was  impressed  with  the 
nature  of  the  oath,  to  keep  him  from  returning 
to  his  pagan  ways;  and  perhaps,  after  all,  the 
wolf  might  be  tempted  to  find  amusement  by 
chasing  the  terrified  men  of  Assisi  into  their 
houses. 

Everybody  in  Gubbio,  happy  at  the  prospect 
of  peace,  blessed  Francis  as  with  one  voice. 
After  this,  Brother  Wolf  became  a  great 
favorite  in  Gubbio;  he  went  from  house  to 
house,  a  cherished  friend,  and  the  children 
played  with  him  as  though  he  were  a  big  dog, 
and  the  dogs  themselves,  out  of  respect  for 
Francis,  did  not  bark  at  him.  Two  years 
later,  when  Brother  Wolf  died  of  old  age, 
Gubbio  grieved  heartily  because  "While  he 
went  about  the  place  gently,"  he  recalled  "viv- 
idly the  virtue  and  holiness  of  St.  Francis." 

FRANCIS    AND    THE    TURTLE-DOVES 

Francis  believed  that  God  gave  special  grace 
to  those  who  loved  his  little  sisters  and  broth- 
ers, the  birds  and  the  beasts.  Even  Brother 
Fly,  though  Francis  evidently  did  not  look 

upon  him  as  of  the  elect,  like  the  lambs  and 

[107] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

the  doves,  was  not  to  be  called  accursed. 
One  day  Francis  met  a  youth  of  amiable 
appearance  on  his  way  to  market  with  a  num- 
ber of  turtle-doves  in  a  cage.  Now,  Francis 
loved  doves,  they  were  so  gentle  and  so  affec- 
tionate, and  had  not  the  Madonna  herself 
offered  them  in  the  temple? 

"0  buone  giovane,"  he  said,  "give  unto  me 
these  birds,  which  are  in  holy  writ  compared 
to  chaste  and  humble  souls,  so  that  they  may 
not  fall  into  cruel  hands  and  be  killed." 

And  the  young  man,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
gave  the  cage  of  doves  to  Francis.  And  then 
Francis  looked  into  the  youth's  eyes  and  said 
sweetly : 

"Little  son,  thou  wilt  later  be  a  brother  in 
this  order,  and  serve  Jesus  Christ  most  gra- 
ciously." 

And  so  in  time  the  good  youth  became  one 
of  the  blessed  order  of  Francis,  and  died  in  the 
grace  of  God,  which  Francis  had  sought  for 
him  because  he  enabled  him  to  set  the  doves 
free.     And  to  the  doves  he  said: 

"0  my  little  pure  doves,  my  little  sisters, 

simple,    innocent,    chaste,   why   did   you   let 

[1081 


THE  COMING  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

yourselves  be  taken?  See,  I  snatch  you  from 
death,  and  give  nests  to  you,  wherein  you  may 
increase  and  multiply,  according  to  the  com- 
mandment of  the  Creator." 

Francis  made  nests  for  them  at  the  Porti- 
uncula,  and  without  fear  they  lived  with  their 
families  among  the  brethren,  by  whom  they 
were  fed.  And  after  they  had  been  fed,  they 
would  not  go  away  until  Francis  had  given 
them  his  blessing. 

The  mighty  love  in  the  heart  of  Francis 
drew  all  pure-hearted  things  to  him,  and  gave 
him  power  to  work  what  men  called  miracles. 
There  are  many  records  of  his  way  with  sinners; 
for  no  sinner  was  hopeless  in  his  eyes,  and 
there  was  no  sinner  who  might  not  be  called 
his  brother.  His  power  over  all  hearts  was 
most  evident  in  the  marvelous  episode  of  the 
conversion  of  Santa  Clara. 

THE  CONVERSION  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

No  great  movement  has  ever  succeeded  with- 
out the  help  of  a  great  woman.  And  the  point 
of  view  of  the  greatest  saints  of  the  church 
concerning  women  has  been  blurred  by  over- 

[1091 


EVERYBODY     S     ST.     FRANCIS 

ascetic  biographers,  who  are  more  or  less 
tainted  with  Gnosticism,  which,  with  all  due 
respect  to  other  people's  opinions,  was  a  fore- 
runner of  Calvinism.  The  saints,  who  were 
men  engaged  in  doing  noble  acts  for  the  love 
of  God,  did  not  look  on  women  as  undesirable. 
On  the  contrary,  in  many  cases,  they  found 
them  so  desirable  that  their  only  safety  was  to 
flee  from  an  attraction  to  which  they  were  only 
too  susceptible.  Modern  ideas  of  purity  are 
not  the  ideas  of  the  early  fathers  or  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  Song  of  Solomon  was  not 
looked  on  as  a  part  of  the  Old  Testament  to 
be  handled  furtively.  The  man  who  sacrificed 
the  earthly  love,  in  the  highest  sense  the  pre- 
lude to  a  more  celestial  passion,  did  not  sur- 
render it  because  it  was  evil,  but  because,  in 
giving  it  up,  he  made  the  supreme  surrender. 
If  to  fine  souls  human  passion  is  the  gateway 
to  a  passion  that  is  superhuman,  there  are 
souls  that  need  not  the  long  approach,  but 
who  enter  at  once  into  that  holy  place  where 
heart  and  soul  meet  in  an  atmosphere  from 
which  all  that  is  earthly  has  disappeared. 
In  the  psychology  of  the  saints  this  is  most 

[110] 


THE  COMING  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

common.  Abelard,  though  he  had  saintly 
potentiahties,  was  not  strong  enough  to  be  a 
saint.  Women  have  always  been  coadjutors 
in  the  work  of  God  for  this  world.  The  re- 
form which  Francis  began  would  have  been 
incomplete  without  the  "Lady  Clara,"  the 
little  flower  of  St.  Francis. 

When  an  enraptured  girl  elopes  at  midnight 
in  our  day  to  meet  her  future  husband,  nobody 
but  the  prudent  condemn.  In  the  Middle 
Ages  even  the  prudent  did  not  condemn,  and 
similarly  there  was  little  condemnation  for  a 
maiden  who,  drawn  by  love  of  God,  made  her 
way  to  a  convent.  So  when  Clara,  having 
listened  to  Francis  in  the  cathedral  of  Assisi, 
determined  to  follow  him  in  the  way  of  poverty, 
only  her  male  relatives  were  indignant,  and 
they  were  considered  to  be  very  unreasonable 
by  all  the  women  of  their  families,  and  rather 
foolish  by  the  people  who  were  their  neighbors. 
"For  who  can  go  against  the  Holy  Spirit?" 
they  asked.  Clara  was  eighteen  years  of  age 
when  she  listened  to  Francis.  She  had  heard 
of  him,  of  course,  for  her  little  world  was  full 
of  his  name.    Besides,  her  cousin  Rufmo  was 

[111] 


everybody's     ST.     FRANCIS 

of  the  "religious,"  as  they  called  the  order. 
Probably  Francis  saw  her  in  church,  as  Dante 
saw  Beatrice,  and  marked  her  for  his  own. 
She  probably  visited  the  Portiuncula  with  her 
aunt  or  her  mother,  Ortolana,  to  see  Friar 
Rufmo.  It  is  certain  that  she  met  Francis 
many  times,  always  in  "honorable  company." 
In  the  turmoil  of  the  wars  about  her  she  longed 
for  peace  and  to  follow  Christ  as  Francis  had 
done,  and  to  follow  him  literally,  becoming  as 
absolutely  poor  as  she  could. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  a  rich  and  noble 
family.  Her  father,  Favorino,  was  one  of  the 
family  of  Scefi,  and  seignior  of  the  castle  of 
Sasso  Rosso  —  at  least  they  say  so  at  Assisi. 
He  had  determined  to  make  a  good  marriage 
for  the  charming  little  Clara;  but  after  she 
had  heard  Francis,  she  would  have  no  suitor, 
and  at  eighteen,  according  to  the  popular 
opinion  of  Assisi,  was  in  danger  of  becoming 
an  old  maid.  Was  not  Juliet  of  Verona  quite 
capable  of  falling  in  love  at  an  earlier  age? 
Thomas  of  Celano,  who  loves  to  play  on  words, 
says  of  her,  "  Admirabihs  femina  clara  vocabulo 
et  virtute  —  clara  satis  genere  traxit  originem," 

[112] 


THE  COMING  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

etc.  The  name  of  her  mother,  which  means 
the  cultivator  of  a  garden,  gives  him  another 
chance  for  a  pun,  and  two  years  after  her  death, 
Pope  Alexander  IV,  in  his  bull  of  canonization, 
takes  the  opportunity  to  make  a  play  on  the 
word  "Ortolana."  Her  mother  was  of  the 
noble  family  of  Fiumi.  Born  in  1194,  Clara 
was  much  younger  than  Francis. 

The  day  —  it  was  Palm  Sunday  —  came 
when  she  chose  between  the  world  and  poverty. 
She  went  to  mass  for  the  blessing  of  the  palms, 
arrayed  in  all  the  splendor  of  new  spring  gar- 
ments, as  was  the  custom.  Her  companions, 
beautifully  adorned,  went  forward  to  take  the 
palms  from  the  hands  of  the  prelate.  Clara 
held  back.  Did  she  hesitate  and  wait  for  a 
sign?  If  so,  the  sign  came.  The  priest  went 
down  to  where  she  humbly  stood,  and  gave 
her  the  branches  with  his  own  hands.  The 
palm  of  utter  sacrifice  for  the  love  of  Christ 
was  to  be  hers.  The  people  were  not  sur- 
prised. The  repute  of  her  sanctity  was  in 
men's  mouths.  A  prophecy  of  it  had  been 
made  to  Ortolana  before  Clara  was  born,  and 
when  a  child,   having  no  rosary,  she  made 

[113] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

beads  of  pebbles.     Many  other  edifying  things 
were  told  of  her. 

On  the  night  of  the  following  Monday, 
March  19,  1212,  Clara,  with  her  Aunt  Pacifica 
and  others,  broke  through  a  closed-up  door 
in  her  father's  house.  She  would  not  pass 
through  the  usual  opening,  for  only  those  who 
never  returned  went  through  the  door  of  the 
dead  in  old  Italian  houses,  and  she  would  never 
return. 

Francis  and  his  brethren,  torches  in  hand, 

for  the  town  and  country  were  asleep,  waited 

for  her.     Francis  to  her  represented  Christ. 

He  was  her  guide  to   the  salvation  of  her 

neighbor  and  her  own  soul,  for  the  essential 

Franciscan  doctrine  was  that  one  saved  one's 

soul  in  saving  one's  neighbor.     Christ  sacrificed 

all  for  the  world,  which  would,  he  knew,  be 

ungrateful.     Clara  ardently  desired  to  be  one 

with  Christ,  to  continue  his  sacrifice,  as  Francis 

interpreted  its  meaning.     Since  the  holy  church 

approved  of  Francis,  she  could  have  no  doubt 

that  he  lived  according  to  the  counsels  of  the 

gospel.     She  would  pray  night  and  day  for 

those  who  could  not  or  would  not  pray;   she 

[114] 


THE  COMING  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

would  crucify  herself  daily  by  giving  up  all 
the  luxuries  of  her  existence,  by  becoming 
utterly  dependent  on  the  will  of  God.  Her 
secret  garden  was  to  be  the  chapel  of  St. 
Damian's,  that  gray  little  building,  to-day  the 
same,  among  its  pomegranates  and  olive-trees. 
Francis  had  builded  better  than  he  knew  in 
saving  it  from  ruin,  for  later  it  was  to  be  the 
abode  of  her  who  was  to  be  with  him  the  co- 
redeemer  of  his  country.  Her  aunt  and  the 
"honorable  company"  with  her  divested  her  of 
her  ornaments,  for  she  had  come  as  a  bride, 
and  her  luxuriant  hair  was  cut  off.  Hence- 
forth she  was  vowed  to  holy  poverty  and  to 
the  service  of  the  poor  in  body  and  spirit,  for 
all  poverty  is  not  physical.  Mass  had  been 
said  just  after  midnight  in  St.  Damian's,  and 
an  hour  after  dawn  Francis  and  his  brethren 
walked  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Paul,  which 
belonged  to  the  nuns  of  the  order  of  St.  Bene- 
dict, "therein,"  as  Thomas  of  Celano  says, 
"to  rest  until  Almighty  God  could  otherwise 
provide." 

When  the  day  came,  the  relatives  of  Clara 

filled  the  town  with  their  clamor.     She  should 

[1171 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

be  brought  back.  Who  was  this  fool  Francis, 
late  a  silly  youth,  to  stand  between  Clara  and 
a  good  marriage  that  would  benefit  both  the 
family  of  Scefi  and  the  Fiumi?  The  kinsmen 
of  Clara  —  her  woman-relatives  were  all  with 
her  in  heart  —  rushed  forth  armed  to  retake 
her,  but  she  would  not  be  retaken.  She 
showed  her  tonsured  head  and  held  fast  to  the 
altar-cloths.  "I  will  be  the  bride  of  no  man," 
she  said;  "I  have  chosen  the  better  part.  I 
am  the  bride  of  Christ."  In  deference  to 
public  opinion  at  last  the  infuriated  men 
accepted  the  situation.  All  Assisi  held  that 
her  father  might  choose  a  husband  for  her 
whether  she  liked  it  or  not,  but  that,  when  it 
came  to  the  question  of  a  religious  vocation, 
her  rights  were  not  to  be  infringed.  In  the 
Middle  Ages  the  only  freedom  for  a  woman  was 
the  freedom  of  the  convent. 

SHE  FOUNDS  THE  ORDER  OF  POOR  LADIES 

With  her  mind  at  rest,  Clara  went  to  the 
church  of  St.  Angelo  di  Panza,  and  thence  to 
that  of  St.  Damian.  Here  she  founded  the 
monastery  of  the  order  of  Poor  Ladies.     Her 

[118] 


THE  COMING  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

young  sister  Agnes  soon  followed  her  into  the 
cloister.  At  this  second  flight  the  Scefi  were 
exceedingly  wroth.  They  rushed  to  St. 
Damian's  and  tore  the  young  girl  from  her 
sister's  arms;  but  the  chroniclers  tell  us  that 
by  a  miracle  the  body  of  Agnes  became  so 
heavy  that  the  united  strength  of  her  captors 
failed,  and  they  were  obliged  to  leave  her  in 
the  road.  When  her  uncle  tried  to  strike  her, 
his  arm  was  smitten  by  a  terrible  pain.  She, 
too,  was  clothed  in  the  beast-colored  robe  of 
the  order  of  Poor  Ladies,  her  girdle  of  jewels 
and  ribbons  was  exchanged  for  a  plain  cord, 
and  there  was  no  reason  for  her  to  wear  her 
pearl-woven  cap,  for  her  hair  was  cut  off. 
She  was  now  so  poor  that  even  nature's  adorn- 
ment was  denied  her.  These  two  began  the 
religious  order  now  known  as  Poor  Clares, 
which  spread  with  incredible  rapidity  over 
Europe. 

At  first  the  little  community  lived  only  by 
manual  labor.  Clara  embroidered  exquisitely, 
as  is  evident  from  the  beautiful  alb  still  pre- 
served in  the  church  of  Santa  Clara,  and  Agnes 

had  also  been  well  taught  to  use  her  hands. 

[119] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

A  certain  number  of  the  friars  were  commanded 
by  Francis  to  provide  for  their  needs.  These 
were  lay  brothers,  known  as  Zealots  of  the 
Poor  Ladies.  It  was  their  duty  to  beg  for 
the  necessaries  of  life  for  their  poor  charges. 
As  a  rule  the  Poor  Ladies  never  went  beyond 
their  garden,  and  as  the  order  increased,  a 
little  house  was  also  provided  for  the  minister- 
ing Franciscan  priest  and  for  the  Zealots.  To 
the  end,  even  after  the  death  of  Francis,  Clara 
persisted  in  the  rule  of  utter  poverty.  When, 
late  in  her  life,  Gregory  IX  was  made  pope, 
she  received  him  at  St.  Damian's.  He  begged 
her  to  accept  some  possessions;  it  was  im- 
possible that  women  could  exist  in  a  community 
without  property. 

"If  it  is  thy  vow  that  stands  in  the  way," 
he  said,  "we  absolve  thee  from  it." 

"Holy  father,"  she  answered,  "absolve  me 

from  my  sins,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  be  absolved 

from  following  the  way  of  Christ."     Against 

the  most  violent  opposition  she  persevered  in 

putting   into    practice   the   rule   of   absolute 

poverty  given  to  her  by  Francis,  and  it  was  not 

until  the  day  before  her  death  that  she  suc- 

[120] 


zavoa-aJTHUT  hut  a  via  eidmahh   .t2 


ua  number  of  the  friars  were  commanded 
by  Prancis  to  provide  for  their  needs.  These 
were  lay  brothers,  known  as  Zealots  of  the 
P<;or  Ladi  "ty  to  beg  for 

the  necessaries  oi  life  tor  iheir  poor  charges. 
As  a  rule  the  Poor  Ladies  never  went  beyond 
their  garden,  and  as  the  order  increased,  a 
little  house  was  also  provided  for  the  minister- 
'rcf  ".  mciscan  priest  and  for  the  Zealots.    To 

:.  even  ofter  the  death  of  Francir.,  Clara 
*f  utter  pover 

she  rec 


"If  it  is  thy  VL-M     ......  ............  ...  ,.   ..   >,.  _, 

he  said,  "we  absolve  thee  from  it.'' 

"Holy  father/'  she  answered,  "absolve  me 
from  my  sins,  but  I  do  not  msh  to  be  absolved 
from  following  the  way  of  Gl^  Against 

the  most  violent  opposition  she  persevered  in 
putting   into   practice    the  ^f   absolute 

poverty  given  to  her  by  Franci^i,  and  it  was  not 
u.j»tii  the  dav  before  her  death  that^  s]ie  stk- 

ST.    FRANCIS    A^J).THE    TURTLE-X>0VE 


ES 


THE  COMING  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

ceeded  in  obtaining  the  bull  from  the  pope 
authorizing  her  communities  to  be  entirely 
poor. 

HER    CHARACTER    AND    WORK 

As  her  reputation  for  sanctity  grew,  hundreds 
of  women,  young  and  old,  became  fired  with 
the  order  to  sacrifice  all  for  Christ  and  their 
neighbors.  They  demanded  peace,  they  de- 
manded love.  One  has  only  to  read  European 
history  of  that  period  to  find  out  how  httle 
love  or  peace  there  was.  If  Christianity 
offered  the  bread  of  life,  there  was  only  one 
way  of  grasping  it.  This  was  to  do  what 
Christians  feared  to  do  —  to  have  no  reserves 
in  sacrifice.  In  his  ''Life  of  Clara,"  Thomas 
of  Celano  said,  "Now,  through  old  age,  the 
weak  world  was  rapidly  failing,  the  eyes  of 
belief  growing  blinder,  its  steps  shambling, 
and  its  strength  for  virile  acts  ebbing,  and 
corruption  walked  abreast  with  senility." 
Queens,  princesses,  hke  Agnes  of  Bohemia, 
followed  the  example  of  Clara,  and  in  beds  of 
splendid  and  luxuriant  roses  grew  the  silence 
that  raises  the  heart.  In  the  beginning  Clara 
would  not  accept  the  place  of  abbess.     She 

[123] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

would  be  least  of  all.  She  nursed  her  sisters, 
bathed  the  feet  of  serving-women,  because 
they  were  poor  and  labored  hard.  She  would 
often  light  the  lamps  and  ring  the  bell  for 
prayers  before  her  community  arose.  She 
would  allow  others  to  do  nothing  that  she  could 
do  herself.  Very  often  in  the  cold  of  the  night 
she  arose  and  covered  the  sleepers.  To  those 
who  were  not  fit  to  follow  the  strict  rule,  she 
was  most  lenient.  Her  sisters  might  not  leave 
the  monastery  except  for  a  reasonable  cause. 
The  lay  sisters,  who  served  outside,  were 
forbidden  to  gossip.  The  chaplain  —  Clara 
would  have  none  but  a  Franciscan  —  must 
not  enter  the  monastery  without  a  companion, 
and  when  they  entered  they  were  obliged  to 
remain  in  an  open  place,  so  that  they  might 
always  be  seen  by  each  other  and  by  others. 
Francis  found  great  consolation  in  Clara's 
aid;  but  she  was  so  humble  that  all  joy  and 
hope  seemed  to  come  to  her  from  Christ 
through  him.  Life  in  the  Middle  Ages,  I 
must  repeat,  was  sacramental  to  those  who 
desired  the  better  part.  All  grace  and  all 
good  were  conveyed  by  symbols,  and  to  devout 

[124] 


THE  COMING  OF  SANTA  CLARA 

souls,  and  even  to  believing  sinners,  Francis 
was  one  of  the  physical  symbols  of  God. 
Francis  pointed  out  to  Clara  greater  heights 
of  perfection.  To  him  she  gave  hope;  she 
smoothed,  too,  for  the  community  of  men  many 
of  the  difficulties  of  daily  life,  which  might 
have  disturbed  their  peace.  The  mending 
and  sewing  for  the  friars,  the  making  of  their 
altar  linen  —  all  these  things  were  looked 
after  by  Clara  and  her  nuns.  And  no  doubt 
the  friars  accepted  certain  ameliorations  of 
their  lot  without  knowing  how  these  amelio- 
rations were  brought  about.  During  a  cold 
winter,  when  he  was  ill,  Francis  was  induced 
to  have  part  of  his  habit  lined  with  common 
fur;  but  he  insisted  that  a  piece  of  this  fur 
should  be  sewn  on  the  outside,  so  that  the 
world  would  know  how  luxurious  he  was. 
The  good  nuns  probably  managed  this. 

Francis,  humbly  fearing  the  adoration  of 
Clara,  seldom  visited  her,  though  their  souls 
seemed  almost  one.  On  his  deathbed,  in  1226, 
in  answer  to  Clara's  request  that  she  might  see 
him,  he  said  to  one  of  the  friars:  ''Go  to  Sister 

Clara  and  tell  her  to  put  away  all  sadness,  and 

[125] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

say  to  her,  too,  that  she  and  her  sisters  will 
meet  me  after  death  and  be  greatly  comforted." 
But  both  knew  much  anxiety  and  much 
tribulation  before  the  day  of  his  death.  In 
the  meantime  Clara  seemed  to  divine  his  secret 
thoughts,  and  when  the  wounds  of  our  Lord 
were  impressed  on  his  body,  she  knew  or 
guessed  the  secret,  and  made  such  foot-gear 
as  enabled  him  to  walk,  and  such  sleeves  as 
concealed  from  the  eyes  even  of  his  brethren 
the  sacred  marks  on  his  hands.  Yet  this 
gentle  creature  set  a  troop  of  Frederick  II's 
Saracens  to  flight,  and  stood  with  all  her 
might  against  the  relaxation  of  the  rule  which 
Rome,  seeing  through  the  eye  of  prudence  and 
common  sense,  tried  to  force  upon  her.  The 
third  order  of  St.  Francis,  which  was  to  give  a 
stunning  blow  to  feudal  privileges,  was  to 
succeed  close  upon  the  foundation  of  the 
second  order,  —  that  of  the  Poor  Ladies,  — 
following  implicitly  in  the  way  of  Francis. 


[126 


IV 


ST.  FRANCIS  AND  THE  PEOPLE 

S  he  grew  older,  Francis  longed 
more  and  more  for  fullness 
of  union  with  Christ.  This 
was  the  beginning  and  the 
end,  the  very  substance  of  all 
his  desires.  He  wished  to  live  in  the  heart  of 
Christ;  above  all  to  suffer,  if  possible,  the  very- 
pangs,  physical  and  mental,  that  Christ  suf- 
fered for  the  love  of  man.  In  the  earlier  days 
when  Francis  had  only  begun  to  long  for  this 
union  in  love  and  suffering,  Christ  appeared 
to  him  at  St.  Damian's,  St.  Bonaventure,  his 
biographer,  tells  us,  as  a  living  figure  upon  the 
cross. 

Eighteen  years  after  the  divine  love  first 
took  entire  possession  of  him,  Christ  in  the 
form  of  a  seraph  rewarded  his  ecstatic  desire, 
"leaving,"  as  the  same  St.  Bonaventure 
says,  "a  wonderful  fire  in  his  heart,  and  a 
no   less    wonderful     sign    impressed    on    his 

[127] 


EVERYBODYS      ST.      FRANCIS 

flesh.  For  there  began  to  appear  imme- 
diately in  his  hands  and  in  his  feet  the  ap- 
pearance of  nails  as  he  had  seen  them  in  the 
vision  of  the  Crucified."  But  in  1213  the 
crown  of  his  mystic  longing  had  not  been 
given  to  him. 

Francis  loved  his  fellows  because  Christ 
loved  them.  For  this  sole  reason  he  began 
to  speak  in  the  language  of  his  country.  In 
the  beginning  of  his  mission  he  had  used  the 
Provencal,  his  mother's  tongue,  which  was 
fashionable  among  poets  before  Dante  had 
created  the  language  that  was  to  be  national. 
He  must  speak  to  the  people.  Good  acts  that 
could  be  understood  by  them  were  not  enough; 
he  must  reach  their  hearts  by  the  living  word, 
and  so  he  sung  his  hymns  to  them  in  the 
language  of  their  homes. 

In  the  sixth  year  of  his  conversion,  about 

1213,  he  became  the  first  Itahan  poet.     In 

prose,  to  his  brothers  in  the  world,  he  wrote  in 

Latin  when  he  wrote  at  all, —  "ad  universe 

Christi  fideles,"  —  but  he  sang  now  in  the 

speech  of  Umbria,  and  he  seldom  preached 

without  singing.     It  was  the  custom  of  the 

[1281 


ST.      FRANCIS     AND     THE      PEOPLE 

friars  to  preface  their  sermons  with  a  rousing 
hymn,  often  impromptu,  in  the  speech  of  the 
"vulgar."  Without  the  poetry  of  Francis  as 
his  example,  without  the  taste  for  the  Itahan 
songs  Francis  created,  Dante  might  have 
written  in  Latin,  and  Ariosto,  too.  What, 
then,  would  have  become  of  the  Italianate 
beauties  of  Spenser  and  young  Milton?  "Viva 
Jesu!  Viva  Maria!"  called  out  the  listeners 
in  1213,  as  they  do  in  Italian  churches  to- 
day. 

THE    METHODS     OF    THE    WESLEYS 

The  disciples  of  John  and  Charles  Wesley  in 
mingling  hymns  with  preaching  and  ejacula- 
tions were  only  following  the  way  of  Francis. 
If  there  is  a  curious  parallel  between  the 
methods  of  the  Wesleyans  and  the  early 
Franciscans,  there  is  an  equally  curious  parallel 
between  the  ideas  of  Francis  as  promulgated 
in  his  third  order  and  those  of  George  Fox  and 
the  Quakers.  The  mysticism  of  St.  Catharine 
of  Genoa  and  the  early  Quakers  are  not  so  far 
apart  as  they  seem.  The  foundation  of  the 
third  order  forced  for  a  time  a  truce  of  peace 

to  exist  in   Italy.     Francis  would  have  the 

[129] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

practical  blessing  of  love  extended  to  all  men. 
There  were  those  who  could  live  solely  in  the 
mystical  contemplation  of  Christ;  these  were 
few.  The  many  must  find  other  roads  to 
peace.  "He  who  appears  to  you  to  be  a  child 
of  the  devil,"  was  the  burden  of  his  preaching, 
"may  to-morrow  be  a  pillar  of  God's  house." 
There  were  those  living  in  the  world  who 
would  become  children  of  the  devil  if  they  left 
their  daily  duties  to  become  as  he  was.  He 
knew  this,  and  he  longed  to  make  their  way  of 
life  more  like  that  laid  down  in  the  gospels; 
for,  since  Christ  had  died  for  all  souls,  he  longed 
to  live  and  to  die  for  them.  In  his  Father's 
house  on  earth  there  were  many  rooms  beside 
the  little  cells  in  which  he  and  his  brethren 
dwelt. 

FRANCIS    AND    HUMAN    LOVE 

He  blessed  the  true  love  of  the  youth  and  the 
maid,  as  he  blessed  the  nests  of  the  doves,  and 
it  is  recorded  that  for  two  spouses  who  loved 
each  other  during  a  long  life  he  obtained  the 
grace  that  they  might  die  together.  This  was 
the  case  of  Lucchesio  and  Bona  Donna,  and 

it  occurred  long  after  the  death  of  Francis, 

f  130  1 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

when  they  departed  for  that  joy  "which  makes 
all  the  pains  of  earth  seem  cheerful  because  of 
the  hope  of  it."  It  was  to  make  men  more 
faithful  husbands  and  wives  and  mothers  truer 
to  their  vocation  that  the  third  order  was 
founded. 

He  loved  the  joys  of  domestic  life.  To  have 
children  of  his  own  would  have  given  him 
great  happiness;  but  this  he  sacrificed  that  he 
might  have  thousands  of  spiritual  children. 
"Each  to  his  vocation";  in  the  Franciscan 
chapel  there  were  many  niches.  For  the 
apostles  there  must  not  be  wife  or  child  or 
earthly  love.  They  must  be  free  for  the 
sacrifice. 

In  his  earlier  life,  tormented  by  the  longings 

of  young  manhood,  Francis  had  more  than 

once  plunged  himself  into  pits  of  ice  and  snow. 

"Brother  Ass,"  he  said  to  himself,  "thou  art 

unworthy;  thou  art  fit  only  to  be  beaten." 

And  on  one  occasion,  when  the  vision  of  a 

happy  home  came  before  him,  he  ran  into  a 

mass  of  newly  fallen  snow  in  the  garden,  and  of 

the  snow  he  made  seven  mounds.     "Behold," 

he  said,  "this  biggest  pile  is  thy  wife,  these 

[1331 


EVERYBODY   S     ST.     FRANCIS 

four  are  thy  daughters  and  thy  sons,  —  two 
of  each,  —  the  other  two  are  thy  man-servant 
and  thy  woman-servant.  Mind,  Brother  Ass; 
for  these  thou  must  trouble  thyself  to  provide. 
Hasten,  then;  go  at  once  to  clothe  them,  or 
they  will  die  in  this  intemperate  winter.  If 
this  oppress  thee,  if  this  weary  thee,  how  much 
easier  is  it  for  thee  to  trouble  thyself  for 
the  one  Lord?"  He  warned  his  brethren  of 
the  stupidity  of  Brother  Ass,  as  he  called  the 
body,  which  needed,  he  said,  to  be  beaten  that 
it  might  obey  every  mood  of  its  master,  the 

spirit. 

For  those  who  could  follow  the  doctrine  of 

Christ,  there  were  other  ways  to  heaven:  for 
the  youth,  love  and  marriage;  for  the  mature, 
children  and  the  cares  of  life;  and  for  the  old, 
the  sunset  glow  of  conjugal  love.  But  for 
Francis  himself  all  these  beautiful  things  did 
not  exist;  and  yet  he  must  bear  the  yoke  of 
the  Lord  cheerfully.  Uncheerful  sacrifice  he 
would  not  tolerate.  To  Francis  a  singing 
brigand  had  more  signs  of  grace  than  a  gloomy 
friar.  Since  Christ  had  arisen  and  was  in  his 
heaven,  what  real  sorrow  could  there  be  in 

[134] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

the  world?    Browning  caught  an  echo  of  this 
in  Italy  — 

The  world  a  place  for  Joy  and  Peace. 

First,  the  world  must,  in  the  name  of  Christ, 
be  joyful;  it  must  be  peaceful.  How  could  it 
be  peaceful  when  a  feudal  lord  had  the  right 
to  force  men  to  fight  in  every  trivial  cause  his 
caprice  or  his  pride  invented?  Men  could  not 
be  joyful  if  they  were  worried  by  the  knowledge 
that  their  possessions  might  be  seized  by  this 
same  feudal  lord,  and  their  wives  and  children 
left  penniless.  How  could  the  poor  be  joyful 
when  the  rich  hated  them  and  gave  them 
naught  but  scorn  and  left  them  naked  and 
starving?  There  was  Lucchesio,  who  after- 
ward died  such  a  good  death  —  a  death  which 
all  true  lovers  might  envy.  He  was  a  rich 
dealer  in  Poggibonsi.  He  was  so  rich  and 
clever  that  he  cornered  the  grain  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  the  poor  suffered  accordingly. 
He  looked  on  this  as  a  legitimate  occupation 
for  a  Christian  man  of  business  until  Francis 
made  him  the  first  member  of  the  third  order 
—  the  order  of  men  and  women  living  in  the 

world.     Whereat  his  wife  Bona  Donna  was 

[1351 


V 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

very  glad,  for  the  women  were  always  on  the 
side  of  Francis.  There  were  thousands  of 
business  men  like  Lucchesio  in  Italy  who  took 
all  they  could,  and  gave  away  with  a  deep 
feeling  of  righteousness  what  they  did  not  care 
to  keep.  Francis  said  to  Lucchesio  that  there 
were  only  two  things  in  the  world,  God  and  a 
man's  soul,  and  to  know  God  and  to  purge  his 
soul  of  all  that  was  unlike  God  was  all.  "  Read 
the  gospels,"  he  said,  "but  only  that  you  may 
act  them,"  and  the  counsel  that  he  gave  to 
Lucchesio  was  what  he  said  to  every  man  and 
woman  who  lived  the  normal  life  of  men  and 
women  in  the  world.  Now  he  became,  within 
the  comprehension  of  the  world,  everybody's 
Francis;  for  to  everybody  he  now  appealed. 

The  contemplative  life  was  the  life  Christ 
himself  had  declared  to  be  "better,"  although 
he  accepted  the  ministration  of  Martha. 
Brother  Giles,  that  fervent  disciple  of  Francis, 
said:  "There  are  seven  degrees  in  the  contem- 
plative life:  fire,  unction,  ecstasy,  contempla- 
tion, taste,  rest,  and  glory.  The  contemplative 
life  is  to  leave  all  things  for  the  glory  of  God, 

to  seek  only  things  heavenly,  to  pray  untir- 

[136] 


ST.      FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

ingly,  to  read  often  with  attention,  to  praise 

God  continually  by  hymns  and  canticles.     To 

contemplate  is  to  be  separated  from  all,  and 

to  be  united  to   God  alone."    And  Brother      / 

Giles   said   also:    "Since   no   one   can   enter 

upon  the   contemplative   life   unless   he  has 

first  faithfully  and  devoutly  practised  in  the 

active  life,  it  behooveth  that  the  active  life 

be  pursued  with  toil  and  with  all  solicitude." 

Martha,  busy  with  much  serving,  was  chided 

by  the  Lord  because  she  asked  Mary  to  help 

her,  and  yet  she  did  not  cease  from  her  work. 

In  the  Franciscan  philosophy,  he  was  goodly 

active  who  built  bridges  and  churches  and 

hospitals,  who  fed  and  clothed  the  poor,  and 

persevered   in  these   works,   despite   rebukes 

that  even  seemed  to  come  from  heaven.     "If 

a  man  were  to  live  a  thousand  years,"  said 

Brother  Giles,  "and  were  to  have  nothing  to  do 

beyond  his  own  lips,  he  would  have  sufficient 

to  do  within  his  own  heart,  nor  would  he  be 

able  to  come  to  a  perfect  end,  so  much  would 

he  have  to  do  within  his  heart  alone.     He  who 

doth  not  make  himself  two  persons,  a  judge    y 

and  a  master,  cannot  be  saved." 

[137] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

AN    OUTLINE    OF    THE    RULE    FOR    THE 
THIRD    ORDER 

In  the  year  1215,  Francis  had  a  return  of  the 
fever  that  had  attacked  him  in  Spain,  where 
he  had  zealously  gone,  as  he  went  to  many 
other  places,  to  preach  to  all  peoples  and 
nations.  He  was  too  ill  to  preach,  so  he  wrote 
to  all  the  faithful  from  the  Portiuncula.  He 
was  assisted  by  Brother  Pacifico,  who  had 
been  a  poet  in  the  world.  In  this  letter  we 
find  the  essentials  of  the  rule  which  he  is 
supposed  to  have  given  to  the  third  order. 
First  of  all,  those  who  would  follow  God  must 
learn  the  lesson  of  love  from  the  sacrament  of 
the  mass,  in  which  Christ,  in  the  substance  of 
the  most  common  of  the  food  elements,  bread 
and  wine,  gives  his  glorified  body  and  blood 
for  the  nutrition  of  the  soul.  Then  peace 
must  actively  come  after  love.  He,  Francis, 
must  be,  like  Christ,  free  from  family  ties  and 
the  burden  of  property,  and  his  immediate 
followers  must  be  Hkewise  free.  For  them 
was  both  the  active  and  the  contemplative 
life;   but  for  the  whole  world,  no.     The  work 

[138] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

of  the  world,  in  the  name  of  Christ,  must  be 
carried  on  by  human  means.  God  Himself, 
in  sending  His  Son  as  man,  had  done  this ;  He 
had  dignified  human  relations. 

THE  THIRD  ORDER  AND  FEUDALISM 

In  the  Middle  Ages  it  would  have  amazed 
men  to  assert  that  God  did  not  work  by  visible 
things,  or  that  the  most  ordinary  actions  of 
life  were  not  part  of  His  scheme.  The  very 
"coarseness"  which  we  find  so  repugnant  to 
our  modern  ideas  of  delicacy  is  often  a  not 
irreverent  way  of  admitting  that  nothing 
human  is  evil  in  itself.  Visible  and  invisible 
life  were  one  in  the  union  of  the  fatherhood  of 
the  Creator.  Every  member  of  the  third  order 
must  be  a  man  of  peace.  Later,  the  founders 
of  the  Quakers  made  this  a  condition,  too, 
but  they  did  not  live  in  an  age  when  people 
were  so  literal  or  so  simple  or  so  logical.  This 
rule  of  love  and  peace,  spreading  through  Italy, 
gave  feudalism  a  violent  blow.  If  a  lord  could 
not  force  his  clients  to  take  up  arms  at  his 
command,  what  was  to  become  of  the  rule, 
right  or  wrong,  of  the  lord?    Then  the  mem- 

[139] 


everybody's     ST.     FRANCIS 

bers  of  the  third  order  must  make  their  wills. 
This  was  another  blow  for  the  feudal  lords, 
who  could  not,  against  law  and  public  opinion, 
fostered  by  the  omnipresent  friars,  seize  the 
goods  of  widows  and  orphans,  enslaving  these 
helpless  creatures  by  making  them  their  wards. 

THE  FOUNDATION  OF  THE  THIRD  ORDER 

In  1221,  Francis  developed  the  seed  we  find 
in  his  letter  to  all  the  faithful  in  Christ,  which 
was  written  in  1215.  "The  brethren  shall 
bear  no  offensive  arms  unless  in  defense  of 
their  faith  and  their  country."  Swearing  and 
dueling,  and  the  common  amusements  of  the 
higher  classes,  as  later  depicted  in  Boccaccio's 
"Decameron,"  were  forbidden.  We  are  told 
that  it  was  the  converted  merchant  Lucchesio 
who  gave  Francis  the  stimulus  to  form  this 
society  for  persons  living  in  the  world.  Luc- 
chesio had  been  eager  for  success;  he  dis- 
played his  wealth  on  all  occasions,  and  his 
wife.  Bona  Donna,  whom  he  loved  passion- 
ately, had  been  of  the  world  worldly.  Francis, 
too,  by  his  insistence  that  the  smallest  detail 

of  life  might  be   sanctified  by  divine  love, 

fl401 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

helped  to  kill  the  mock-heroic,  chivalric  ex- 
travagances he  had  practised  in  his  youth. 
To  be  great  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  it  was  no 
longer  necessary  to  be  grandly  heroic.  To  be 
great  in  the  eyes  of  Christ,  one  might  do  many 
little  things  unknown  to  the  world ;  but  above 
all,  one  must  be  cheerful,  for  Christ  must  be 
served  with  joy.  Not  even  the  greatest  physi- 
cal pain  should  drive  out  the  joy  of  suffering 
for  the  love  of  God.  But  faith  and  prayer  are 
useless  without  works.  Those  who  are  rich 
must  use  their  riches  for  the  good  of  others. 
They  need  not  be  eccentric.  One  cannot  be 
outwardly  poor  in  the  courts  of  kings,  but  one 
may  be  always  poor  in  spirit.  Golden  copes 
and  precious  chalices  for  the  service  of  the 
King  of  kings,  yes,  and  pearls  and  velvet 
to  honor  a  temporal  prince;  but  for  those 
who  would  serve  according  to  the  gospel  there 
should  be  nothing  for  their  own  vanity. 
Magnificence  was  right  where  one's  state  of 
life  demanded  it,  but  ostentation  never. 

In  this  letter  of  1215,  Francis  gives  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  death  of  the  rich  man  who  had  not 
loved  God  and  had  trusted  in  men.     "Wilt 

[141] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

thou  do  penance  for  all  thy  sins?"  asked  the 
priest  of  the  dying  man. 

He  answered,  "I  will." 

"Wilt  thou  from  thy  substance,  as  far  as 
thou  canst,  satisfy  for  what  thou  hast  done 
and  for  the  things  in  which  thou  hast  defrauded 
and  deceived  men?" 

He  answered,  "No." 

And  the  priest  said,  "Why  not?" 

"Because  I  have  put  everything  in  the 
hands  of  my  relatives  and  friends." 

He  began  to  lose  the  power  of  speech,  and 
then  the  miserable  man  died  a  bitter  death. 
"After  this,"  Francis  said,  "his  relatives  and 
friends  cursed  him  for  not  having  left  them 
more  than  he  did." 

The  Brothers  and  Sisters  of  Penance  must 
make  restitution  during  their  lives,  and  not 
wait  for  death-bed  repentance. 

Moreover,  their  hands  must  always  be  open 
to  the  poor  and  the  sick,  and  they  must  bury 
the  dead. 

POVERTY    ABOVE    ALL 

All  Europe  was  amazed  at  the  change  in 

public  sentiment  wrought  by  the  manner  in 

[142] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

which  Francis  appHed  the  counsels  of  the 
gospel  to  actual  life.  It  became  unfashionable 
to  be  avaricious.  Feuds  ceased  for  a  time, 
because  hatred  was  denounced  by  this  wonder- 
ful creature.  The  Capulets  and  the  Mon- 
tagues kissed  one  another  on  the  cheeks,  knelt 
at  the  same  altar,  and  wondered  why  they 
had  never  known  peace  before. 

Retainers  of  haughty  barons,   who  to  all 
intents  and  purposes  had  been  slaves,  now 
became  free  men.     "Not  to   us,   poor  little 
Brothers  of  Christ,"  said  Francis,  ''shall  you 
give  house  and  lands,  but  each  year  a  fixed 
portion  of  your  earnings  to  the  poor  and  the 
homeless.     We  are  no  better,  surely,  than  He 
who  had  no  place  to  lay  His  head.     Leave  us 
in  poverty,  but  help  not  only  with  gold,  but 
with  love,  those  who  suffer."     The  spirit  of 
love  and  of  freedom  vitalized  Italy,  or,  rather, 
from  the  heart  of  love  rose  the  soul  of  freedom. 
There  was  a  higher  power  on  earth  than  the 
omnipotent  feudal  lord.     The  Franciscan  spirit 
had  entered  into  the  hearts  of  Lucchesio  and 
Bona  Donna,  and  Francis,  visiting  their  home, 
simple  and  peaceful,  had  asked  why  all  good 

[  143  1 


everybody's     ST.     FRANCIS 

Christians  in  the  world  could  not  live  as  they 
lived,  in  love  and  peace.  But  the  secular 
authorities  did  not  look  on  the  penitents  of 
the  third  order  with  favor.  In  1221,  at  Rimini, 
the  podesta  decreed  that  they  must  swear  to 
take  up  arms  at  the  demand  of  the  local  au- 
thorities. The  conflict  became  so  fierce  that 
Pope  Honorius  III  had  to  settle  it  by  placing 
the  brethren  of  the  third  order  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Bishop  of  Rimini.  In  many 
cities  the  brethren  were  highly  taxed  unless 
they  would  bear  arms  in  local  quarrels.  Hono- 
rius, and  later  Gregory  IX,  came  to  the  rescue, 
and  the  third  order  increased,  gradually  killing 
the  worst  tyrannies  of  feudalism. 

In  the  name  of  Christ  the  common  people 
sheathed  their  swords  and  said:  "We  will  not 
fight  the  battles  of  hatred  merely  that  a  man 
may  possess  more  lands  and  castles.  We  do 
not  work  for  wages,"  said  these  men,  made  joy- 
ful by  the  teachings  of  Francis;  "we  work  that 
we  may  live  to  perpetuate  love  and  peace."  To 
give  cheerfully  and  to  receive  cheerfully ;  not  to 
give  alms  as  a  condescension,  and  not  to  accept 

them  as  a  humiliation,  was  to  be  the  rule. 

[144  J 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

The  beggar  who  could  work,  and  would  not, 
was  sinning;  the  beggar  who  could  not  work, 
and  yet  looked  on  his  necessity  as  a  curse 
instead  of  a  blessing,  likewise  sinned. 

The  paraphernalia  of  business  Francis  re- 
garded as  dangerous.  Nevertheless,  it  must 
be  endured  and  even  used  for  the  greater 
glory  of  God  by  folk  in  the  world.  Asceticism 
in  the  Puritan  sense  Francis  did  not  under- 
stand. All  things  were  good,  and  to  be  used 
with  joy;  but  not  by  him  and  those  who,  like 
him,  were  called  to  sacrifice  these  good  things 
for  the  love  of  Christ. 

THE    ROBBERS    OF    MONTE    CASALE 

The  story  of  his  treatment  of  the  robbers 
of  Monte  Casale  was  typical  of  his  point  of 
view  —  a  point  of  view,  like  most  of  the  views 
of  Francis,  by  no  means  modern.  Angelo  had 
been  a  very  charming  and  attractive  youth,  the 
fine  flower  of  generations  of  breeding,  delicate, 
yet  strong.  He  wished  to  be  a  friar.  Francis 
looked  at  him.  He  seemed  like  a  fine  grey- 
hound and  unfitted  for  the  hardships  of  a  life 

of  poverty. 

[145] 


EVERYBODY  S     ST.      FRANCIS 

"Father,"  said  Angelo,  "I  am  a  man  such 
as  you,  and  by  the  grace  of  Christ,  I  can  endure 
as  you  endure." 

Francis  accepted  him,  and  was  so  pleased 
with  him  that  he  made  him  guardian  at  Monte 
Casale.  In  this  territory  there  happened  to 
live  three  robbers  who  occasionally  committed 
murder.  But  the  times  became  hard,  and 
these  men  could  not  even  make  a  living,  and 
so  they  went  to  beg;  but  Angelo,  who  was 
still  intolerant,  used  hard  language  to  them. 
"Go,  robbers  and  cruel  murderers!"  he  said 
to  them.  And  then  he  told  them  they  were 
so  vile  and  insolent  that  they  dared  to  covet 
the  small  portion  of  food  set  aside  for  the 
servants  of  God. 

1  Driven  from  the  door,  the  three  starving 
robbers  went  away  cursing  God  and  man. 
Young  Angelo  was  pleased  with  himself,  and 
when  Francis  came  home  with  some  bread 
and  a  bottle  of  wine  of  the  country,  Angelo 
told  him  the  story  of  how  he  had  rebuked  the 
murderous  thieves.  But  Francis  was  right- 
eously angry.  He  reminded  Angelo  that  the 
sick,  not  the  healthy,  needed  a  physician,  and 

[146] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

that  those  whose  souls  were  ill  through  sin 
must  be  treated  gently.  Christ  himself  had 
loved  sinners  so  much  that  he  had  often  eaten 
in  their  company. 

"Go,"  Francis  commanded  —  "go  fmd  these 
sinners,  give  them  this  bread  and  wine,  and 
kneel  to  them,  confessing  humbly  your  fault 
in  treating  them  harshly."  Then  Angelo 
realized  that  they,  too,  were  little  ones  of 
Christ,  lacking  as  yet  only  good-will.  Foot- 
sore, weary,  perhaps,  a  little  afraid  of  these 
undesirable  citizens,  he  found  them  at  last. 
They  fell  upon  the  food,  for  they  were  hungry, 
and  in  the  meantime  Francis  prayed  for  them 
with  all  his  heart. 

When  the  robbers  were  refreshed,  they  said 
to  Brother  Angelo,  "Let  us  go  to  the  holy 
Francis,"  and  they  went,  wondering  that  any 
man  could  be  so  good  as  not  to  hate  them,  for 
they  knew  best  what  they  had  done.  Francis 
received  them  with  distinguished  considera- 
tion. They  were  in  doubt  whether  even  God 
could  forgive  them  their  terrible  sins.  But 
Francis  told  them  that  the  mercy  of  God  is 

greater  than  any  sin,  and,  besides,  St.  Paul 

[149] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

had  said  that  the  blessed  Christ  had  come  on 
earth  to  redeem  sinners.  The  robbers  were 
touched.  It  was  the  business  of  the  dear 
Christ  to  save  such  as  they,  if  they  would 
perform  their  part  and  repent.  Delighted 
with  this  knowledge,  they  asked  to  be  re- 
ceived among  the  friars.  They  thus  renounced 
the  devil  and  all  his  works.  "Two  were  re- 
warded with  early  and  happy  deaths,"  the 
pious  chroniclers  tell  us,  "and  the  third  re- 
mained on  earth  fifteen  years,  living  so  that 
the  fast  of  Lent  was  a  feast  for  him."  Thus 
during  all  his  life  Francis  loved  sinners  and 
worked  for  sinners;  for  in  his  theory  the 
defiance  of  God's  laws  was  a  disease  of  the 
soul,  as  leprosy  was  a  disease  of  the  body. 

SOME  OF  THE  WAYS  OF  BROTHER  JUNIPER 

Brother  Masseo  of  Marignano  was  very 
good  and  also  very  frank.  He  had  none  of 
the  politeness  of  Brother  Angelo,  who  had 
been  bred  in  noble  houses.  Once  Brother 
Masseo,  perhaps  doubting  whether  the  hu- 
mility of  Francis  could  endure  all  the  adulation 

he  received,   repeated   several  times:   "Why 

[150] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

after    thee?    Why    after    thee?    Why    after 
thee?" 

"Well,  speak  up,"  said  Francis,  somewhat 
weary  of  this  reiteration.  He  knew  the  holi- 
ness of  Brother  Masseo,  and  for  that  reason 
cherished  his  words. 

"Thou  art  not,  Francis,  good  to  look  upon 
nor  art  thou  of  high  birth  nor  art  thou  a 
scholar.  It  puzzles  me  to  know  why  the 
world    runs    after    thee." 

Upon  this,  Francis  humbly  knelt  and 
thanked  God.  And  then  he  told  Brother 
Masseo  that  God  had  looked  from  His  heaven 
to  find  the  meanest  of  creatures  to  do  a  great 
work  —  a  creature  so  sinful  that  all  the  world 
might  know  that  it  was  not  the  man  that  did 
this  work,  but  the  glory  of  God  shining  and 
working  in  him.  And  Masseo  was  pleased 
and  satisfied. 

Brother  Juniper  was  specially  dear  to  Fran- 
cis. He  was  all  charity  and  simplicity,  but  so 
literal  that  to  the  other  brothers  he  was  often 
a  trial,  and  to  those  who  had  still  some  of  the 
world  in  them  a  scandal.  If  little  children 
were  dear  to  the  Lord,  Francis  argued,  Juniper 

fl511 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

must  be  very  dear,  for  he  was  a  little  child. 
And  the  nearer  in  simplicity  human  beings 
were  to  little  children  and  the  doves  and  the 
lambs,  the  nearer  they  were  to  the  spirit  of 
the  perfect  love  that  casteth  out  fear.  For 
instance.  Brother  Juniper  took  it  into  his  head 
to  exercise  his  humility,  and  went  into  Viterbo 
wearing  only  his  breeches.  Even  the  robe 
and  the  cord  were  too  luxurious  for  him.  As 
the  public  square  was  crowded,  the  thought- 
less, not  understanding  the  good  intention  of 
this  innocent,  howled  in  scorn  or  amusement, 
and  even  cast  mud  and  stones  at  him.  Thus 
persecuted,  he  was  not  permitted  to  leave 
Viterbo  until  late  in  the  day.  When  he 
appeared  with  his  bundle  of  clothes  in  his  hand 
the  brethren  were  indignant;  they  felt  that 
he  had  disgraced  them.  They  insisted  that 
Francis  ought  to  have  him  manacled  as  one 
mad.  "No  punishment  is  too  bad  for  me," 
said  Juniper.  "Even  let  me  return  among 
the  people  in  the  dreadful  manner  in  which  I 
came  here!" 
Juniper  loved  his  brethren  much,  but  the 

poor   even   more.     "Would   that   we   had   a 

[152] 


AEo^.lVi  oe   Mo.ivel 


ST.     FRANCIS    AND     BROTHER    MASSED 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

whole  forest  of  Junipers!"  said  Francis,  when 
this  little  fool  of  the  good  God  had  done 
something  more  innocently  outrageous  than 
usual. 

At  Greccio,  Francis  instituted  the  first 
Christmas  celebration  to  make  it  the  feast  of 
the  children;  but  of  that  later.  The  Penitents 
at  Assisi  were  getting  ready  for  this  great 
festival,  and  the  sacristan  had  exerted  all  his 
faculties  and  resources  in  decorating  the  altar. 
Some  benefactors  had  given  to  the  church  a 
fringe  of  gold  adorned  with  richly  wrought 
silver  bells.  These  were  the  pride  of  the  sacris- 
tan's heart,  though  there  were  other  orna- 
ments almost  equally  worthy  of  the  occasion; 
but  he  became  hungry  before  the  task  of  adorn- 
ment was  completed,  and  he  begged  Juniper  to 
watch  the  altar  until  he  came  back  from  his 
meal.  Juniper,  who  happened  to  be  praying 
in  the  chapel,  gladly  consented.  No  sooner 
had  the  trustful  sacristan  gone  than  a  woman 
came  in  to  beg  something  for  the  love  of  Christ. 

"Wait,"  said  Juniper.     "God  will  not  miss 

alms  for  thee  from  all  the  richness  of  His  altar." 

His  eye  caught  the  little  silver  bells  on  the 

[1551 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

gold  fringe.  "God  does  not  need  these  bells," 
he  said;  "they  are  unnecessary."  Full  of 
sympathy,  he  imitated  the  example  of  Francis 
at  Foligno,  and  gave  to  the  poor  woman  his 
Father's  goods,  cutting  the  precious  bells  off 
with  his  knife. 

The  sacristan  had  hardly  begun  to  eat  when 
experience  recalled  some  of  Juniper's  little 
ways.  "How  idiotic  I  am,"  he  thought,  "to 
leave  Juniper  in  charge  of  anything  he  can 
give  to  the  poor!"  Off  he  ran  to  the  chapel, 
and  he  saw  the  worst  —  the  mutilated  fringe, 
which  was  to  have  glistened  with  silver  bells 
under  the  candles  of  the  midnight  mass. 

"Oh,  don't  bother  about  the  bells,"  answered 
Juniper  to  the  frenzied  reproaches  of  the 
sacristan.  "They  were  of  no  use;  they  were 
merely  for  worldly  display,  and  the  poor 
woman  was  in  the  greatest  need." 

The  sacristan  scoured  the  city  for  the 
woman  with  the  precious  bells,  but  in  vain. 
Then  he  angrily  exposed  the  case  to  the  father 
guardian,  who  was  so  angry  that,  when  rebuk- 
ing Juniper  in  the  chapter,  he  lost  his  voice. 

Brother  Juniper  delighted  in  being  scolded; 

[156] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

SO  he  was  filled  with  love  during  the  torrent 
of  reproaches  that  fell  upon  him.  "Poor 
father!"  he  thought,  "he  talks  as  though  he 
had  a  cold;  I  must  cure  him."  Off  he  went  to 
the  town  to  beg  some  hot  porridge  and  butter. 
It  took  him  some  time  to  get  just  what  he 
wanted,  and  he  wanted  it  hot.  It  was  nearly 
midnight  when  he  reached  the  guardian's  cell. 
In  answer  to  his  knock,  the  good  man  rose, 
and,  candle  in  hand,  looked  at  him. 

"Dear  Father,"  said  Juniper,  affection- 
ately, offering  the  dish  of  porridge,  "I  noticed 
that  your  throat  was  tired  when  you  scolded 
me  to-day;  therefore  I  have  brought  you  this, 
which  will  act  like  an  internal  poultice." 

"At  such  an  hour!"  cried  the  justly  enraged 
guardian.  "You  rufTian,  you  scullion,  you 
idiot!" 

"Dear  Father,"  responded  Juniper,  calmly, 
"we  must  not  waste  the  porridge.  Since  you 
will  not  eat  this  good  porridge,  which  was  for- 
merly hot,  do  me  the  kindness  to  hold  the 
candle  while  I  eat  it."  The  guardian  saw  at 
once  the  good  intention  of  Brother  Juniper, 
and  he  doubtless  had  a  sense  of  humor,  too,  for 

[1571 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

they  ate  the  porridge  together.  This  story 
greatly  pleased  Francis. 

Francis  had  no  fear.  If  miracles  sprang 
up  in  his  path,  like  exotic  flowers,  wherever 
his  feet  touched,  it  was  because  he  expected 
them  of  God,  as  a  child  expects  daily  bread  of 
its  father.  What  God  did  not  do  in  the  case 
of  other  folk  did  not  in  the  least  concern  this 
simple  child  of  faith.  What  he  wanted  he 
asked  for;  for  had  not  his  Lord  said  to  him 
personally,  "Ask  and  thou  shalt  receive?" 

All  his  biographers  tell  us  that,  going 
boldly  among  the  infidels,  he  almost  converted 
the  Sultan  of  Babylon,  knowing,  as  he  did, 
that  the  name  of  Christ  was  mentioned  many 
times  in  the  Koran  and  that  the  same  book 
acknowledged  the  divine  and  uncarnal  birth 
of  Christ.  The  sultan  was  his  brother  and 
not  so  far  removed  from  him  as  the  less  discern- 
ing thought.  Among  the  Mohammedans  in 
Morocco,  during  the  crusade  of  St.  Louis,  he 
gained  respect  because  he  seemed  possessed  of 
the  madness  of  charity.  He  loved  the  birds, 
and  we  are  told  in  the  "Mirror  of  Perfection," 

that  he  loved  them  more  than  ever  at  Christ- 

[1581 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

mas  time.  "If  I  could  talk  to  the  emperor," 
he  often  said,  "I  would  beg  him  that,  for  the 
love  of  God  and  me,  he  would  command  by 
law  that  no  lark  should  be  trapped  or  killed, 
and  likewise  on  the  day  of  our  Lord's  birth  all 
rulers  should  oblige  men  to  strew  grain  upon 
the  roads,  so  that  our  sisters  the  larks  and  all 
other  birds  might  have  enough  to  eat;  and 
that,  because  on  that  day  the  Son  of  God  was 
born  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  a  manger  between 
an  ox  and  an  ass,  all  who  have  oxen  and  asses 
might  out  of  reverence  be  forced  to  feed  them 
well;  and  likewise  the  poor  on  that  day  should 
be  abundantly  fed  by  the  wealthy." 

FRANCIS    THE    FIRST    TO    MAKE    CHRISTMAS    A 
children's    FESTIVAL 

Francis  loved  the  feast  of  Christmas  because, 
"once  our  Lord  was  born,  our  salvation  must 
follow."  Little  children  who  gather  about 
the  crib  under  the  brightly  lighted  Christ- 
mas tree  are  fulfilling  the  hope  of  Francis, 
for  it  was  he  who  made  the  first  crib. 
Francis  knew  that  it  is  better  to  see  than 
to  read,  even  better  to   see   than   to    hear. 

[1591 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

Not  being  a  priest,  he  could  not  celebrate 
mass;  but  as  deacon  he  could  read  the  gospel 
aloud  —  that  gospel  which  tells  of  the  birth 
of  Christ.  And  he  would  make  hymns  of 
his  own,  too;  but  this  was  not  enough.  He 
wanted  the  people  of  Greccio  and  Assisi, 
especially  the  children,  and  all  the  country 
around,  to  see  our  little  Lord  in  the  stable,  as 
he  saw  him  with  the  keen  eye  of  love;  for  to 
Francis  all  things  were  sacramental.  They 
were  outward  signs  of  spiritual  essence.  He 
applied  to  the  pope  for  permission  to  add  a 
new  ceremonial  to  the  celebration  of  the 
nativity,  and  on  that  still  and  beautiful  night 
he  had  a  manger  filled  with  hay  in  which  he  laid 
a  figure  of  the  divine  child.  To  this  manger 
was  brought  the  animals  which  had  looked 
with  delight  at  the  new-born  babe  on  the  first 
Christmas  morning.  Francis  lavished  all 
possible  care  on  this  representation.  Candles 
and  torches  shone  on  the  faces  of  the  delighted 
crowds  that  flocked  to  the  chapel  at  Greccio 
to  do  honor  to  the  symbol  of  the  Lord.  The 
heart  of  Italy  was  touched,  and  the  simple 
peasants  found  a  great  need  filled  in  this: 

[1601 


ST.      FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

they  had  seen,  and  from  that  moment  every 
new-born  child  and  every  animal  had  a  certain 
sacred  character  for  them.  If  all  Italy  did 
not  become  tender  with  the  dumb,  driven 
beasts,  it  was  not  the  fault  of  Francis,  who 
taught  kindness  to  animals  by  showing  that 
divinity  had  smiled  on  them. 

THE     INDULGENCE    OF    THE    PORTIUNCULA 

The  love  of  Francis  for  the  humble  Portiuncula 
and  its  little  wood,  which  he  loved  even  more 
intensely  than  Newman  loved  his  room  at 
Oxford,  culminated  when  he  wrested  the 
famous  indulgence  of  the  Portiuncula  from 
Pope  Honorius  III.  It  was  a  triumph  that 
filled  the  ecclesiastical  world  with  amazement, 
and  made  this  humble  chapel  the  center  of 
attention  in  Europe.  The  emperor  himself 
would  have  given  much  to  have  this  indulgence 
bestowed  on  a  basilica  under  his  protection. 
Apart  from  the  religious  character,  it  was  a 
great  distinction,  and  the  crowd  of  pilgrims  it 
attracted  would  have  helped  to  make  any  place 
rich    and    famous.     The    indulgence    Francis 

demanded  was  the  unique  one  reserved  by 

fl61] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

excellence  for  crusaders.  In  the  early  days 
the  church  insisted  that  sinners  should  do 
public  penance  before  their  sins  could  be 
satisfied  for,  after  the  spiritual  guilt  had  been 
forgiven.  There  must  be  a  temporal  penance 
as  well  as  the  possible  punishment  in  the 
progressive  state  after  death,  —  purgatory,  — 
through  which  the  once  guilty  soul  advanced 
nearer  to  the  blessed  vision  of  God. 

As  time  passed,  the  church  mitigated  public 
penances  by  exchanging  them  for  easier  means 
of  making  earthly  satisfaction  for  spiritual 
guilt.  It  was  a  foregone  conclusion  that  a 
sin  of  theft,  for  instance,  would  not  be  forgiven, 
no  matter  how  many  absolutions  were  be- 
stowed by  the  priests,  unless  restitution  were 
made.  But  restitution  was  not  enough,  sorrow 
was  not  enough;  there  must  be  punishment, 
and  beneficial  punishment.  Remission  of  the 
temporal  punishment  due  to  sin  for  a  fixed 
time,  after  the  spiritual  guilt  had  been  re- 
mitted, were  common;  but  Francis  asked  that 
a  plenary  indulgence  should  be  given  so  that 
every  person  who  visited  the  chapel  at  Porti- 

uncula,  truly  repenting  of  his  sins  and  having 

f  162  1 


the  birv' 
ver,  tb 


inn  rr:iu(^   nr,x 


1^.    ■>■; 


'S'fV  •F«AN<:'iS  FR  BACHING  TO  THE  PEOPLE 
OF  ASSISI 


•JJ40a4     rrlHT    OT    i)  'Al  U  I)  A  :-i  n -i     <i  1  :_)  1^  A  H    I     .TZ 
IdlZZA    'iO 


ST.      FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

confessed  and  obtained  absolution,  "should  be 
free  of  all  punishment  for  sin  from  his  baptism 
until  the  day  he  entered  the  chapel."  If  a 
Christian  died  with  the  temporal  punishment 
for  his  sins  unperformed,  the  prison  of  purga- 
tory awaited  him  until  his  debt  should  be  paid. 

Some  cardinals  were  astonished  at  the 
liberahty  of  Honorius  in  giving  Francis  so 
much.  As  they  said,  "It  might  lessen  the 
number  of  pilgrims  to  Rome  and  the  Holy 
Land."  But  Francis  seemed  to  have  charmed 
this  pontiff,  as  he  had  charmed  the  sultan  and 
the  birds.  The  Roman  curia  insisted,  how- 
ever, that  the  indulgence  should  be  limited  to 
a  certain  space  of  time  within  thirty-six  hours. 

After  this,  Francis  was  more  joyful  than 
usual.  He  had  put  his  increasing  crowd  of 
poor  friars  under  the  protection  of  Rome. 
No  man  could  now  persecute  them  as  heretics; 
they  would  be  allowed  to  be  utterly  poor, 
utterly  independent  of  the  pomp  of  this  world, 
since  the  destitute  httle  Portiuncula  had  been 
more  honored  than  St.  Peter's  itself.  He 
feared  wealth  for  his  order  more  than  all  other 
evils,  but  he  coveted  for  it  the  things  of  the 

[165  1 


everybody's     ST.     FRANCIS 

spirit.  Even  some  of  the  leaders  had  begun  to 
act  as  if  the  Franciscan  kingdom  was  of  this 
world.  This  he  sought  to  correct  by  laying 
stress  on  the  spiritual  honor  the  pontiff  had 
bestowed  on  his  poor  little  chapel;  it  was  not 
a  gift  of  gold  or  silver. 

The  absence  of  a  corroboratory  document 
giving  the  indulgence  from  Pope  Honorius 
is  explained  by  the  characteristic  refusal  of 
Francis  to  accept  a  written  confirmation 
of  this  great  privilege.  Even  when  Count 
Roland  de  Cattani  gave  to  him  the  lonely 
Monte  della  Verna,  in  Tuscany,  he  had  refused 
a  deed  of  gift.  It  was  for  his  use,  but  a  legal 
deed  would  have  made  it  his  property,  and  in 
his  last  words  to  the  brothers  he  commanded 
them  not  to  accept  from  the  Roman  curia 
written  privileges. 

HIS    DISLIKE    FOR    LEARNING    IN    HIS    ORDER 

Cardinal  Hugolino,  afterward  Gregory  IX, 
was  the  special  protector  of  Francis.  He 
insisted  that  Francis  should  preach  before 
Pope  Honorius  and  the  sacred  college.  Fran- 
cis said,   "I  am  nothing,   I  know  nothing." 

[166] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

But  the  cardinal  insisted.     The  result  justified 
the  dislike  of  Francis  for  the  carefully  prepared 
sermon,    written    and    memorized.     Francis, 
drilling  himself,  learned  an  elaborate  discourse 
by    heart.     The    illustrious    and    exquisitely 
critical  assembly  waited.     What  would  this 
celebrated  friar  say?    How  would  he  say  it? 
Francis  was  abashed  before  the  prelates  who 
were  splendid  in  purple  and  red,  ghttering  with 
gold  and  amethyst,  learned  in  style  and  dia- 
lectics.    Much  would  depend  on  the  impression 
this   humble   and   wonderful   creature  made. 
Cardinal  Hugolino  felt  his  heart  sink  as  Fran- 
cis began  to  stumble  and  hesitate.     How  these 
learned  men  would  despise  this  noble  one,  who 
really  deserved  their  homage!     It  is  recorded 
that  Hugolino  prayed  with  all  his  might  for 
his  protege.     Then  Francis  threw  aside  his 
artificial  address,  and  broke  forth  into  such 
an  ardent  appeal  that  the  whole  assembly  wept 
with  him  and  burned  with  the  love  of  Christ. 
It  was  his  first  and  last  attempt  at  a  carefully 
prepared  sermon. 

Francis    discouraged    learning    among    his 
brothers.      His    contemporary    and     friend, 

[1671 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

Dominic,  canonized  later,  might  create  a  band 
of  scholars  and  teachers,  controversialists  and 
philosophers,  but  for  him  and  his  poor  little 
brothers  the  word  of  the  gospel  was  enough; 
this  they  could  hear  even  if  they  could  not  read. 
He  feared  science,  but  he  loved  poetry.  Music 
and  song  might  be  loved,  —  they  were  one,  — 
but  technical  distinctions  in  theology  and 
philosophy  he  left  to  others.  His  friars  might 
write  the  holy  names  in  flowers  in  their  gardens 
if  they  liked,  for  Francis,  frugal  as  he  was, 
would  have  some  flowers  in  every  garden.  He 
seemed  to  say  with  the  Eastern  poet,  "If  I 
had  two  loaves  of  bread,  I  would  give  one  for 
a  hyacinth."  The  flowers  were  his  friends. 
He  would  not  tread  ruthlessly  on  a  little 
plant,  because  it  might  bear  a  lily,  emblem  of 
the  purity  of  Christ;  or  on  a  rose,  symbol  of 
her  who  was  the  Rose  of  Sharon;  nor  would 
he  permit  a  scrap  of  written  parchment  to  be 
trodden  on,  for  fear  that  it  might  hold  the 
name  of  God.  But  books  were  best  avoided. 
When  one  could  live  with  nature  and  sing  with 
nature,  why  should  one  read?  he  thought,  not 

knowing  that  Seneca  had  long  ago  uttered 

[1681 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

his  thought:    "If  a  house  were  given  you, 
bright  with  marble,  its  roof  beautifully  painted 
with  colors  and  gold,  you  would  call  it  no  small 
benefit.     God  has  built  for  you  a  mansion  that 
fears  no   fire   or  ruin."     Sight  was  enough. 
Why  should  simple  brothers,  having  this  gift, 
long  for  learning?    Francis  would  not  permit 
one  of  his  young  friars  who  had  asked  him  for 
it  to  have  a  psalter.    Those  who  had  learned 
to  read  might  read  the  word  of  God;  but  why 
learn  to  read  the  black  letters,  even  when 
illumined   with   gold    and    azure?    Was   not 
God's  sky  more  splendid,  and  His  love  written 
there  and  everywhere?     Book-learning  he  did 
not  despise  in  others,  but  let  his  own  little 
sheep  remain  in  their  simple  pastures.     Be- 
sides, books  were  only  for  the  rich,  and  he  and 
his  were  poor. 

HIS    LOVE    OF    POETRY    AS    A    MEANS 
OF    GRACE 

When  it  was  a  question  of  poetry,  the  written 
words  might  be  used  to  preserve  a  song. 
Francis  was  a  born  singer.  Since  the  birds 
praised  God  in  song  and  gave  deUght  to  the 

[169] 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

world,  could  men  do  less?  He  had  sung  many 
songs,  first  of  all  those  Provengal  songs  he  had 
learned  at  his  mother's  knee;  later  the  chan- 
sons of  the  fashionable  troubadours,  imported 
into  Italy  with  French  velvets  and  French 
wines;  and  also  the  Latin  chants  of  the  church 
by  St.  Ambrose  and  his  followers.  In  1224  he 
composed  the  "Canticles  of  the  Sun"  in  his 
own  tongue.  Into  his  order  there  had  come 
a  great  poet,  Gulielmo  Divini,  who  had  been 
crowned  with  laurels  in  Rome.  Divini,  called 
the  "king  of  poets,"  had  gone  to  the  Convent 
of  Severino  to  hear  the  noted  "singer  of  the 
good  God,"  who  called  vices  by  their  real 
names,  and  who  would  burn  out  the  cancer  sin 
with  the  fire  of  love  with  all  pity  for  the  sinner. 
Divini  heard  and  was  conquered.  "Brother," 
he  said,  "lead  me  far  from  men,  and  give  me 
God."  He  was  the  Brother  Pacifico  to  whom 
Francis  intrusted  the  work  of  correcting  the 
song  of  his  heart,  the  "Canticles  of  the  Crea- 
tures," which  Brother  Leo  had  written  at  his 
dictation. 

Before  Francis  gave  to  God  and  the  world 

this  poem  of  the  sun  and  all  created  things,  he 

f  170] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

had  changed  the  point  of  view  among  Chris- 
tians as  to  the  value  of  Christianity.  He  had 
taught  them  that  the  gospel  must  be  the  rule 
of  life,  and  that  the  soul  that  wilfully  resisted 
Christ's  teachings  was  outside  the  church  and 
dead.  This  he  had  done  by  the  sacrifice  of 
himself  and  by  those  miracles  which  men 
accepted  without  question,  and  which,  in 
their  eyes  and  his,  were  not  so  wonderful  as 
the  tears  of  a  penitent  sinner. 

Francis,  we  are  told,  had  many  struggles 
with  the  demon;    but  he  looked  on  joy  and 
cheerfulness    as    qualities  the   demon  hated. 
•'Before  me  and  others,"  he  said  to  a  brother, 
"try  to  be  glad;   for  it  is  not  seemly  that  a 
servant  of  Christ  should  show  a  troubled  face 
before   his   brethren."     Ordered   gladness   he 
loved,  but  not  loud  laughter.    He  even  dis- 
approved of  himself  when  he  laughed.     "The 
servant  of  God,"  he  said,  "in  eating,  drinking, 
sleeping,  and  other  corporal  works,  must  dis- 
creetly fortify  his  body,  so  that  Brother  Body 
shall  not  have  cause  to  murmur  and  to  say, 
*I  cannot  stand  upright  and  attend  to  prayer, 
nor  do  any  other  good  works,  because  you  do 

[171] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

Mot  satisfy  my  wants.'  "     Sadness  and  self- 

sonceit  were  of  the  demon. 

If 

f^  FRANCIS    NOT    OVER-ASCETIC 

A  BROTHER  spoke  of  a  poor  man  sneeringly. 
"He  is  poor,  but  his  one  desire  is  to  be  rich." 

"Take  off  your  tunic,"  commanded  Francis, 
"and  throw  yourself  naked  at  the  feet  of  this 
poor  man,  confess  your  fault,  and  ask  him  to 
pray  for  you." 

There  was  no  room  for  pride  in  his  scheme 
of  life.  To  him  the  poor  came  before  all. 
Once  an  old  woman  came  to  the  Portiuncula. 
She  had  two  sons  in  the  order,  and  she  begged 
of  Francis.  ' '  Brother  Peter, ' '  he  asked, ' '  what 
can  we  give  our  poor  mother?" 

"In  all  the  house  there  is  nothing  that  we 
can  give  her  that  will  be  of  any  use  to  her. 
Even  in  the  church  there  is  only  the  New 
Testament  from  which  to  read  the  lessons  at 
matins." 

"Give  it  to  her,"  said  Francis,  "that  she 

may  sell  it;  for  I  believe  firmly  that  this  will 

be  more  pleasing  to   God   and   the   Blessed 

Virgin  than  that  we  should  read  from  it." 

[172] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

It  is  related  that  he  knew  without  being 
told  the  needs  of  his  brethren  and  their 
true  thoughts.  It  was  revealed  to  him  that 
Brother  Elias,  the  prudent  man  who  tried  to 
make  the  Franciscans  worldly,  would  rebel 
against  the  rule  and  die  out  of  the  order. 
Elias  noticed  that  Francis  treated  him  coldly, 
and  he  asked  the  reason.  Francis  told  him, 
and  Elias  wept. 

"If  I  were  in  the  midst  of  hell,"  he  said, 
"and  thou  didst  pray  for  me,  I  should  receive 
some  refreshment.  Pray  God  for  me,  for  it  is 
recorded  that  if  a  sinner  change  his  ways,  God 
will  revoke  His  sentence." 

Francis,  much  moved,  prayed  with  all  his 
might.  Later,  after  the  Emperor  Frederick 
of  Sicily  had  persuaded  this  most  learned  Elias 
to  rebel  against  the  church  and  leave  the  order, 
the  prayers  of  Francis  brought  him  back,  and 
he  died  wearing  the  habit  of  his  master. 

At  the  great  meeting  of  the  friars  at  the 
Portiuncula,  where  hundreds  were  fed  and 
cared  for  as  the  lilies  of  the  field,  Francis 
obliged  all  the  brethren  who  for  the  purpose 

of  penitence  wore  sharp  pointed  instruments 

[1731 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

to  give  them  up.  We  may  be  sure  that  the 
ascetic  Brother  Elias  did  not  approve  of  this. 
In  the  reports  of  the  time  men  were  healed, 
dried  vineyards  brought  forth  fruit,  all  things 
were  given,  when  Francis  asked  in  the  name  of 
love.  Of  strange  occurrences  like  these,  of  the 
wonder  of  his  vision  in  the  camp  of  the  cru- 
saders, who  were  defeated  because  they  would 
not  listen  to  him,  of  his  offer  to  be  burned  by 
his  little  Brother  Fire  in  order  that  the  sultan 
might  be  converted,  pages  might  be  written; 
but  the  greatest  marvel  was  to  come. 

FRANCIS     RECEIVES    THE    STIGMATA 

From  the  beloved  Portiuncula  he  had  gone  to 
the  place  of  the  birds,  the  cold  steeps  of  the 
mountain  of  Alvernia.  It  is  a  great  rock 
crowned  with  birches  and  pines.  To-day  it  is 
as  it  was  in  1224,  thanks  to  Pope  Alexander  IV, 
who  forbade,  under  penalty  of  excommunica- 
tion, the  cutting  of  the  trees.  Above  the 
world,  but  still  in  it,  Francis  sat  with  his 
brethren.  It  had  been  hard  work  for  the  holy 
man  to  reach  this  deserted  place.  He  had 
been  obliged  to  ride  part  of  the  way  on  an  ass. 

[174] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE      PEOPLE 

**Who  are  you?"  asked  the  peasant  who  led 
the  ass.  "Are  you  Brother  Francis  of  Assisi? 
If  you  are,  my  advice  is  to  try  to  be  as  good  as 
people  say  you  are,  so  they  will  not  be  dis- 
appointed."    Francis  knelt  and  thanked  him. 

Francis  rejoiced  in  the  singing  of  his  beloved 
birds,  but  he  could  scarcely  see  them.  Blind- 
ness was  creeping  upon  him.  Now  he  could 
see  only  the  sun  in  his  heart.  Even  near  the 
sky,  here  on  Monte  Alvernia,  its  earthly  light 
was  dimmed.  When  the  physician  cauterized 
his  forehead,  and  it  was  not  a  gentle  operation, 
he  had  not  feared.  "My  little  Brother  Fire 
will  be  kind  to  me,"  he  had  said.  And  Brother 
Fire  was.  Francis  had  never  permitted  fire  to 
be  quenched  when  it  was  unnecessary,  "for 
how  beautiful,  how  purifying,  this  creature  of 
God  is!" 

In  this  lonely  place  he  lived  in  a  little  hut 
by  himself.  Brother  Masseo  having  taken  upon 
himself  all  the  daily  duties.  There  he  suffered 
the  agony  of  knowing  that  his  own  brothers 
were  betraying  his  ideals.  As  his  master  knew 
that  men  he  loved  would  betray  him,  so  Fran- 
cis knew  that  the  pride  and  pomp  of  life,  a 

f  175  1 


EVERYBODY    S     ST.     FRANCIS 

hatred  of  poverty,  and  the  love  of  worldly 
prudence,  were  casting  Lady  Poverty  from  the 
hearts  of  many  of  those  who  professed  to 
follow  him.  In  truth,  the  religion  was  rent 
by  conflicts  between  the  lovers  of  the  pure, 
old  rule  and  the  supporters  of  a  compromise 
between  Franciscan  ideals  and  the  ideas  of  the 
world.  But  his  agony  of  heart  brought  him 
nearer  to  his  divine  model,  who  had  suffered 
in  the  garden. 

The  stigmata  of  Christ  were  the  impress  of 
the  wounds  on  his  head,  his  side,  his  hands, 
and  his  feet,  and  ever  since  the  vision  of  the 
living  Christ  had  appeared  to  him,  he  had 
lived  in  contemplation  of  the  wounds  Christ 
endured  for  love.  The  thought  of  them  was 
always  with  him;  and  to  him,  alone  in  his  hut, 
they  became  more  and  more  real  as  the  great 
feast  of  the  exaltation  of  the  holy  cross  came 
nearer.  On  the  morning  of  this  feast  he  had 
watched  and  prayed  all  night.  There  ap- 
peared *'a  seraph  having  six  wings,"  says 
Thomas  of  Celano,  "and,  sheltered  by  these 
glowing  wings,   was  borne  a  most  beautiful 

man  whose  hands  and  feet  were  stretched  out 

[176] 


O  Vi  I  T  I  A  W    fl  3  T  g  I  2    ff  a  H    Q  M  A    A  H  A  J  0    A  T  VT  A  « 

8  I  D  K  A  XT  ^  -  '        '  ^ 


r.nii'ec..  'v^eriy,  anci  liio  worldiy 

prudein.t:,  Sfcie  c   '--^  '  "       •  *  irom  the 

hearts  of  many  essed  to 

follow  him.     In  +ri  was  rent 

by  '^r.nilicLs  bct^  be  pure, 

olri  nd  the  rters  of  a  compromise 

between  Franciscan  ideals  and  the  ideas  of  the 
world.  liis  agony  of  heart  brought  him 

nearer  to  ius  divine  model,  who  had  suffered 


his  iiui, 

c  a:.a  more  rcai  as  the  great 
i'.v^i  -n  ui'j  vvcuiation  of  th-  ^'•■'  -  -  -  -  e 
nearer.     On  the  morning  (  ..,   ..a<i 

watched    ond    Drrvr^d    iil?  lorf    nn- 

peared  s 

Thorn:  elano,  ihese 


ixaiius  and  ifcel  were  slieti;iied  oui 

f  t'T.   • 


SANTA    CLARA    AND    HER    SISTER    WAITING 
ON    ST.     FRANCIS 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

after  the  manner  of  a  cross."  .  .  .  "And  as 
the  seraph  flew  very  swiftly  toward  Francis," 
writes  St.  Bonaventure,  "his  heart  was  filled 
with  joy  and  sorrow;  for  he  rejoiced  at  the 
gracious  aspect  with  which  Christ,  under  the 
form  of  a  seraph,  looked  upon  him;  yet  to 
behold  him  thus  fastened  to  a  cross  pierced  his 
soul  hke  a  sword  of  compassion  and  grief." 

The  vision  made  him  marvel.  How  could 
it  be  that  the  sorrow  of  the  crucifixion  could 
be  coupled  with  such  joyous  and  seraphical 
splendor?     St.  Bonaventure  continues: 

At  last  he  understood  by  the  revelation  of  God 
that  this  vision  had  been  presented  to  his  eyes  by 
divine  Providence,  that  the  friend  of  Christ  might 
know  that  he  was  to  be  transformed  into  Christ 
crucified,  not  by  the  martyrdom  of  the  flesh,  but  by 
the  fire  of  the  spirit.     The  vision,  disappearing,  left 
behind  it  a  marvelous  fire  in  his  heart  and  a  no  less 
wonderful  sign  impressed  upon  his  flesh.     For  there 
began  to  appear  on  his  hands  and  feet  the  appearance 
of  nails,  as  he  had  seen  them  in  the  vision  of  the 
crucified.    His  hands  and  his  feet  appeared  pierced 
through  with  nails,  the  heads  of  the  nails  being  seen 
in  the  insides  of  the  hands  and  the  upper  part  of  the 
feet,  and  the  points  on  the  reverse  side.     The  heads 
of  the  nails  in  the  hands  and  feet  were  round  and 
black,  and  the  points  somewhat  long  and  bent,  as  if 
they  had  been  turned  back.     On  the  right  side    as 

[  179  ] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

if  it  had  been  pierced  by  a  lance,  was  the  mark  of  a 
red  wound,  from  which  the  sacred  blood  often  flowed 
and  stained  his  tunic.  The  servant  of  God,  seeing 
the  holy  signs  thus  deeply  impressed  on  his  flesh  so 
that  he  could  not  conceal  them  from  his  familiar 
companions,  and  yet  fearing  to  discover  the  secret 
of  the  Lord,  was  in  great  trouble  and  perplexity 
whether  he  should  declare  or  conceal  what  he  had 
seen.  He  therefore  called  some  of  the  brethren  and 
in  general  terms  proposed  his  doubt  to  them  and 
asked  their  counsel.  Then  a  certain  friar,  Illumi- 
natus  both  by  grace  and  by  name,  knowing  that  the 
holy  man  had  seen  some  marvelous  vision  which  had 
thus  amazed  him,  answered:  "Brother,  not  only 
for  thine  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  others,  thou 
knowest  that  the  divine  mysteries  are  made  known 
to  thee.  And  therefore  it  seems  to  me  that  thou 
shouldst  fear  to  conceal  this,  which  thou  hast  re- 
ceived for  the  benefit  of  many,  lest  thou  shouldst  be 
condemned  for  hiding  the  talent  committed  to  thy 
care."  At  these  words  the  holy  man  was  so  greatly 
moved  that  though  he  was  accustomed  to  say  on 
these  occasions,  "My  secret  is  to  myself,"  he  now 
related  with  great  fear  all  the  order  of  the  aforesaid 
vision,  adding  that  he  who  had  appeared  to  him 
had  said  to  him  other  things  which  he  must  never 
so  long  as  he  should  live  reveal  to  any  man.  And 
it  is  to  be  believed  that  these  discourses  were  secret 
things  spoken  to  him  by  that  sacred  seraph  who  so 
marvelously  appeared  to  him  on  the  cross,  and  which 
perhaps  it  was  not  lawful  to  utter  to  men.  When 
the  lover  of  Christ  had  been  transformed  by  his  true 
love  into  his  own  image,  having  fulfilled  the  forty 
days  which  he  had  thus  spent  in  solitude  before  the 

[180j 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

feast  of  the  Archangel  Michael,  this  angelic  man, 
Francis,  descended  from  the  mount,  bearing  with 
him  the  image  of  the  crucified  engraven  not  on  tables 
of  wood  or  stone  by  the  hand  of  the  artificer,  but 
written  on  his  members  of  flesh  by  the  finger  of  the 
living  God.  And  because  it  is  written  that  it  is 
good  "to  conceal  the  secret  of  the  king,"  therefore 
this  man,  who  was  conscious  of  so  royal  a  secret, 
endeavored  to  conceal  its  sacred  signs  from  the  eyes 
of  all  men.  But  inasmuch  as  God  is  wont  for  His 
own  glory  to  reveal  the  great  things  which  He  works, 
the  Lord  Himself,  who  had  secretly  impressed  these 
tokens,  openly  manifested  many  miracles  by  their 
power,  that  the  hidden  and  miraculous  virtues  of 
these  stigmata  might  be  clearly  known  by  many 
signs. 

Back  to  the  Portiuncula  he  went,  growing 
weaker  and  blinder,  but  ecstatic  in  knowing 
the  secret  of  the  King,  which  he  had  confided 
only  to  a  few  of  his  brethren.  The  poor  were 
helped  and  the  sick  healed,  and  he  went  singing 
homeward.  Now  he  was  near  Clara  again, 
and  there  is  a  story  in  the  Fioretti  that  he  gave 
to  her  the  consolation  of  eating  under  her  roof. 
But  at  least  he  was  near  her,  and  she  and  her 
sisters  could  help  him  in  his  need  as  only 
ministering  and  loving  women  can.  More 
and  more  he  desired  that  his  brethren  should 
be  utterly  poor,  and  that  they  should  reach  the 

[  181  ] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

people  not  by  splendid  buildings  or  by  elabo- 
rate sermons,  but  by  simple  words  and  songs. 
And  from  the  litle  wood  of  the  Portiuncula 
could  be  heard  the  chief  poem  he  had  composed. 

O  most  mighty,  omnipotent,  and  good  Lord, 
To  Thoe  belong  praise,  honor,  and  all  benedictioni 
To  Thee  alone.  Most  High,  are  all  these  due. 
There  is  no  man  worthy  Thy  name  to  speak. 
Praise  be  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  with  all  Thy  creaturesl 
Especially  for  Messer  Sun,  our  brother. 
Who  gives  us  light  in  the  day; 

And  he  is  beautiful  and  radiant  with  great  splendor. 
Of  Thee,  Most  High,  he  is  the  sign. 
Praise  be  to  Thee  for  Sister  Moon  and  the  Stars, 
Which  Thou  madest  for  heaven,  clear,  rare,  and  beautiful! 
Praise  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  for  Brother  Wind, 
For  air  and  clouds,  for  quiet  time  and  stormy, 
By  which  Thou  dost  sustain  all  Thy  creaturesl 
Praise  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  for  Sister  Water, 
Useful  and  humble,  and  precious  and  chaste! 
Praise  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  for  Brother  Fire, 
Who  lightens  up  the  night, 

And  is  handsome  and  joyous  and  robust  and  able! 
Praise  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  for  our  sister  and  mother. 
The  Earth,  who  brings  forth  varied  fruit  and  herbs,  bright-hued. 
Who  sustains  and  keeps  us. 

Praise  to  Thee  for  those  who  forgive  for  love  of  Thee 
Sustaining  afflictions  and  tribulations! 
Blessed  be  those  who  keep  themselves  in  peace! 
By  Thee,  Most  High,  will  they  be  crowned  at  last. 
Praise  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  for  Sister  Death, 
From  whom  no  man  can  flee! 
But  woe  to  those  who  die  in  mortal  sin! 
Blessed  are  those  who  do  Thy  most  holy  will! 
To  them  the  second  death  can  bring  no  evil. 
Praise  ye,  and  bless  my  Lord,  and  thank  Him,  and  serve  Him 
with  great  humility! 

[182] 


ST.      FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

Willing  to  show  that  human  means  must  be 
used  to  their  full  extent,  he  went  to  Siena  to 
consult  a  physician  learned  in  the  diseases  of 
the  eye.     He  moved  very  slowly.     He  tried 
with  all  his  might  to  be  joyful  at  the  thought 
of  leaving  his  brethren,  but  he  saw  too  well  that 
what  men  called  prudence  and  common  sense 
was  corrupting  his  ideals.     They  found  money 
necessary;     Lady   Poverty   was   served   with 
only  half  a  heart.     And  yet  he  would  not  inter- 
fere.    **As  I  can  not  correct  and  amend  them 
by  preaching,   admonitions,   and  example,    I 
will  not  become  their  executioner,  to  punish 
them  as  though  I  were  a  worldly  authority," 
Recognizing  that  his  kingdom  was  not  of 
this  world,  he  had  resigned  all  temporal  au- 
thority  over   them.     Nevertheless,    the   pru- 
dence  of  the  brethren  he  loved  made  him 
wretched.     Of  the  future  master-general  of  the 
friars  he  hoped  that  "he  would  hold  money 
in  detestation  as  the  chief  curse  of  our  pro- 
fession and  perfection."    '*If  I  could  go  to  the 
chapter,  I  would  let  them  know  my  wishes." 
He  could  not  go;    but  he  could  make  peace 
between  the  bishop  and  the  governor  of  Assisi 

1 183  ] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.      FRANCIS 

and  this  he  did;  and  to  this  conciliation, 
which  meant  the  preventing  of  a  disastrous 
war,  we  owe  the  lines  in  the  "Canticle  of  the 
Creatures"  in  honor  of  forgiveness.  The 
bishop,  who  loved  him,  forced  him  to  his 
palace.  Assisi  demanded  it;  for  might  not 
another  city,  Italian  or  foreign,  tear  the  dying 
and  precious  one  from  those  to  whom  he  be- 
longed? He  was  already  a  saint  in  the  heart 
of  Italy,  and  more  than  seven  cities  had 
already  their  eyes  on  his  precious  body. 

HIS    HAPPY    DYING 

Francis  now  left  all  to  God.  He  became 
joyous  again;  his  Sister  Death  was  coming. 
He  sang  when  he  could,  but  always  he  begged 
his  brethren  to  sing  of  God,  of  the  sun,  of  all 
creatures,  and  he  loved  the  accompaniment 
of  the  lute.  EUas  found  this  indecorous. 
*' People  might  be  shocked  at  such  a  song  on  a 
death-bed  and  in  a  bishop's  house,"  he  re- 
proved; but  Francis  and  Leo  and  Angelo  and 
the  rest  sang  joyfully  despite  this.  He  was 
not  for  earthly  palaces.  He  must  die  soon, 
his  physician  said;  and  then  he  determined  to 

[184] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

die  at  the  Portiuncula,  saying,  "Praise  be  to 
Thee  for  Sister  Death!" 

To  the  Portiuncula  they  carried  him,  Angelo, 
the  knightly,  whose  politeness  he  praised; 
the  eloquent  Masseo;  the  mystical  Brother 
Giles;  the  strong  Brother  John;  the  irre- 
pressible but  patient  Brother  Juniper.  And 
they  all  sang: 

"Praise  be  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  with  all  Thy 
creatures!" 

And  when  they  came  to  the  hospice  which 
overlooked  Assisi,  Francis,  whose  eyes  were  al- 
most blind,  asked  his  brethren  to  turn  his  face 
toward  it  and  to  help  him  stand.  "Blessed 
be  thou  of  God,  0  holy  city,  because  by 
thee  shall  many  souls  be  saved,  and  in  thee 
many  servants  of  God  shall  dwell,  and  from 
out  of  thee  shall  many  be  elected  to  the  king- 
dom of  eternal  life!"  "And  having  spoken 
these  words,"  writes  the  author  of  the  Fio- 
retti,  "he  was  carried  to  St.  Mary  of  the 
Angels." 

From  the  dear  retreat  of  the  Portiuncula, 
near  the  little  wood,  he  dictated  a  piteous 

letter,  as  a  child  would  to  his  mother,  to  Donna 

[1851 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

Jocopa  di  Settesoli  at  Rome.  His  spiritual 
daughter  Clara  should  see  him  again,  —  he 
sent  her  this  message,  —  but  not  in  this  life. 
But  to  Donna  Jocopa,  the  practical,  the  woman 
in  the  world,  but  not  of  it,  he  wrote: 

And  believe  me,  if  thou  wouldst  see  me  not  in 
death,  arise  as  soon  as  thou  shall  get  this  letter  and 
come  to  St.  Mary  of  the  Angels.  Bring  with  thee  a 
shroud  for  my  body  and  the  wax  needed  for  my 
funeral.  I  pray  thee  also  bring  me  some  of  the  food 
thou  gavest  me  when  I  was  sick  in  Rome. 

Francis  then  told  the  scribe  to  fold  the  letter 
up  and  to  put  it  away.  "There  was  no  need 
to  send  it."  While  the  brother  wondered, 
there  was  a  knocking  at  the  door,  and  in  came 
this  noble  lady  with  her  two  sons,  Roman 
senators,  and  before  the  portals  rode  a  great 
group  of  knights.  But  Francis  cared  not  for 
all  this  pomp.  "He  was  as  the  painted  wood 
in  the  statues  of  the  saints,  not  to  be  honored 
but  as  the  symbol  of  the  spirit."  Madonna 
Jocopa  had  not  waited  for  his  letter.  In  a 
dream  she  had  been  told  that  her  dear  friend 
needed  her.  And  she  had  brought  even  the 
little   cakes  made   with   almonds   and   sugar 

that  Francis  liked  and  longed  for  when  near 

[1861 


ST.      FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

his  death.  And  because  he  loved  the  hooded 
larks,  "it  pleased  the  Lord  that  these  holy 
birds  should  show  him  some  sign  of  affection 
at  the  hour  of  his  death;  for  on  the  evening  of 
Saturday,  after  vespers,  before  the  night  in 
which  he  departed  to  the  Lord,  a  great  number 
of  these  birds  came  on  the  roof  above  his  bed 
and  flew  about  singing,  but  very  softly." 
Francis  threw  off  his  tunic  that  he  might  die 
poor  and  naked  like  his  Lord.  Lying  on  the 
earth,  with  his  hand  covering  the  wound  on 
the  right  side,  he  said:  "Farewell,  my  children, 
and  when  any  temptation  and  trouble  come 
near  you,  say,  'Blessed  are  they  who  persevere 
in  those  things  which  they  have  begun.' 
And  now  I  go  to  God,  to  whose  grace  I 
commend  you  all." 

The  sight  of  the  failing  body,  clothed  only 
in  the  cincture  of  penitents,  drew  floods  of 
tears  to  the  eyes  of  his  brethren.  One  of 
them  brought  him  a  poor  robe,  as  the  Bishop 
of  Assisi  had  done  years  before.  "To  thee, 
poor  for  the  love  of  Christ,  I  bring  this,"  he 
said.  Francis  rejoiced.  He  was  as  poor  as 
his  Lord  had  been. 

[189] 


EVERYBODYS     ST.     FRANCIS 

When  his  time  came,  on  October  3,  1226, 
in  the  fortieth  year  of  age,  he  asked  that  the 
Gospel  of  St.  John  should  be  read  to  him  — 
"before  the  feast  of  the  Passover."  The 
reader  went  on  until  the  end.  Then  the  dying 
man,  as  softly  as  the  birds  above  the  roof, 
sang:  "I  cried  to  the  Lord  with  my  voice; 
with  my  voice  I  made  supplication  to  the 
Lord,"  finishing  with:  "Bring  my  soul  out  of 
prison,  that  I  may  praise  Thy  name:  the  just 
wait  for  me  until  Thou  reward  me."  He  died 
singing. 

Then  his  soul  passed  as  a  bright  star  in  a 
cloud,  carried,  as  upon  many  waters,  to  heaven. 

Santa  Clara,  doomed  to  live  without  him 
many  years  to  come,  saw  him  when  they 
brought  his  body  to  the  convent,  and  kissed 
the  sacred  wounds.  The  chroniclers  do  not 
tell  us  that  she  wept,  but  we  know  that  her 
sisters  wept.  From  this  time  she  —  without 
whom  he  would  have  faltered,  —  she,  the  co- 
foundress  of  the  Franciscans,  —  could  only 
wait. 

And  the  gates  of  heaven  opened  for  a  time 
for  the  weary  children  of  men. 

[190] 


ST.     FRANCIS     AND     THE     PEOPLE 

Two  years  after  his  death,  Francis,  the  Poor 
Little  Man,  became,  through  the  mandate  of 
the  church,  Francis  the  Saint.  He  had  shown 
a  view  of  higher  things  to  Italy  and  the  world. 
Men  looked  up  with  the  light  of  the  eternal 
sun  upon  their  faces.  He,  a  little  child,  had 
led  them;  he  belonged  to  them  all,  as  every 
poor  little  child,  in  memory  of  the  sacred 
humanity,  belongs  to  us  all. 


THE    END 


191 


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